


Renegade

by sosodesj



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/M, Pirate!Zayn, Sexual Content, Teasing, cowritten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 49,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2411798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sosodesj/pseuds/sosodesj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all my 17 years, Penzance has never had a pirate ship in its harbour, so the disturbing tales of thieves of the sea didn’t seem real to me. They sounded more like nightmares than something that could actually be real. Still, there was something foreboding about looking at the distant sea, wondering if beings that were so cruel actually existed and if people actually lived these kinds of thrilling adventures.<br/>Despite the fear that came along with hearing the tales of pirates, I always wished I could live a life of adventures. To feel fear and excitement coursing madly through my veins. Unfortunately, I was stuck here, and I never thought I would have the chance of seeing distant lands across the mass of ocean.<br/>Until he showed up.<br/>He swept into my life unexpectedly. Notorious and aggressive, I was his key to fortune. He had to have me. Not only was I taken from my life before, but I was swept and thrown into a life I had never known existed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something Uncanny

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue
> 
> April 7th, 1762
> 
> Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always been told that crooks and bandits were nothing but trouble. Chaos followed them wherever they went, robbing towns and abusing women.  
> I’ve been told other tales, of monsters who preyed the sea in search of gold and riches were told in hushed, fearful whispers.  
> They ravaged towns. They killed people, leaving no survivors except the whisper of the wind to share the tale. Setting towns on fires and dragging women out of their homes and raping them, they lacked humanity. They mercilessly sought wealth and took whatever they wanted, with whatever force was needed. They were the thieves of the sea.  
> They were pirates.  
> Since people rarely witnessed the cruelty of these renegades, people claimed the tales were nothing more than myths meant to scare people. Still, there was something foreboding about looking at the distant sea, wondering if beings that were so cruel actually existed and if people actually lived these kinds of thrilling adventures.  
> Sometimes I wish I had the chance to live something exciting. I’d give so much just to have the chance to taste life properly, . But I can’t. I’m stuck here, abandoned by my own parents with only an empty locket to keep me company. Hopefully things will change soon.
> 
> -Roselina Aldrich

“William, honestly,” I chastise under my breath as I calmly unruffle the younger boy’s shirt for the third time that morning. My patience is rapidly wearing thin as he keeps moving around, his eyes full of wonder. William is always excited and rambunctious - the total opposite of his younger sister, but for some reason, he is more lively than usual, which proves it a difficult task to get him ready for the day ahead of him.

 

“You should’ve seen it!” He gushes, his light brown eyes wide in awe. “The lightning and thunder, did you see it? Did you?”

 

I certainly heard it. There was a raging storm the night before, and I barely had the chance to catch a wink of sleep due to the thunderous booms overhead and the constant flashes peering through my window. I have never feared storms, but the loud noises made it hard for me to sleep peacefully without stirring, wondering when it will end. Unlike William, I am not excited and marvelled by the storm. I feel the exact opposite. Tired and ragged, I am more than ready to finish the day before it’s even begun.

 

I’m not always in bitter spirits. Normally, I tend to always strive and see the positive outlook in the things I come to terms with, no matter how overwhelming they may seem. I believe that if you did that rather than focusing on the negatives, things will come much easier to you, such as a more uplifted mind.

 

Nonetheless, we all have our good and bad days, and today is one of my bad days. I can feel it each time I stifle a yawn, or how my eyes slightly burn from fatigue. I regret being unable to sleep last night, letting the storm overpower me. But what’s done is done; all I can do now is go on with the day and do the best I can do make it through.

 

“Yes, I saw it,” I tell William as he breaks from my hold and runs to his window, climbing recklessly onto the sill.

 

“It reminded me of the bedtime story,” William says, gazing outside dreamily. “The one from last night. I felt as though pirates were outside, the thunder as the cannons,” he elaborates, making excited gestures with his hands.

 

 I am the one who tucks the children into bed, and since they tend to be restless at times, I read them bedtime stories. Their mother loves buying her children books, so I always have an interesting variety of stories to choose from. Despite their restlessness, the children are thoughtful and imaginative as all other children, and William has a deep fascination with pirates.

 

For as long as i can remember, I have always feared pirates. The stories I’ve heard of them were horrifying - they were never light-hearted, and I never grew as excited as William to hear about them. I feel as though William really wants to be the hero he sees in his own imagination, the hero that is always spoken of in the books I read them. He wants to one day fight pirates rather than fear them. He is young, but one day, I know he will grow into a strong man with ambitions like no other. I can already see it.

 

I sigh and figure there isn’t much to do with William at this point. He is dressed for the day, and I can only hope he won’t dirty his clothes too much by the end.

 

“Breakfast is waiting,” I tell him with a patient smile. “You don’t want it to get cold, do you?”

 

“I’m not hungry.” William says with a disinterested shrug, staring fully out the window with a smile tugging at his lips. He is thoughtful and dreamy, as if imaging the horrible storm last night was actually a pirate ship docked in the waters with a crew of pirates for him to take on.

 

I chuckle and shake my head. Children will be children.

 

“If you want to ever prove your strength to a pirate,” I say playfully, “then you must eat your food and become strong. How else do you hope to accomplish that if you don’t eat enough to grow?”

 

William snaps from his thoughts, realization lighting his face. Suddenly eager to go to breakfast, he springs from the window sill and dashes out into the hall, nearly missing his younger sister, Alice, on the way out. Clearly she has just woken up; her light auburn hair messy around her soft face and her little fists rubbing her tired eyes.

 

She must’ve been unable to sleep because of the storm as well, her light green eyes lacking of life. I smile softly as I grasp onto her hand and gently lead her to her room to help get her ready just like I helped William.

 

She doesn’t speak much, which isn’t unusual, since Alice keeps mostly to herself. I dress her in silence, noting how she continues to glance at her window, which is halfway shrouded in billowing curtains that are normally closed. Alice does not like her window bare, and I remember hanging those curtains a while back, due to the fact that she was unable to sleep at night.

 

Just as I finish braiding her long hair, she says, “There’s a new ship.”

 

In confusion, I pause in braiding her hair and whisper for her to repeat herself. With a sigh, Alice gets off my lap and goes to her window, pointing against the glass. Quirking an eyebrow, I step beside her and follow her gaze. Her window looks out onto the harbor of Penzance. There aren’t normally a lot of ships in our waters; mostly they are composed of  travellers and merchants in hopes of visiting our town, although it isn’t big or well-known throughout the land. Nonetheless, we do receive visitors at times, which arouses the interest of the townspeople instantly upon noticing.

 

Today, there is indeed a ship in the harbor. I can’t see much of the details, but I’m not surprised Alice took notice, being a very observant child. Although  I do wonder why she noticed this more than anything else, mostly because she is afraid of having her window bare.

 

Nevertheless, I send her downstairs to eat breakfast, and I begin tidying the children’s room. I pass by Julia, who is another maid working in the estate, and she smiles in greeting, humming lightly under her breath.

 

She and I don’t speak too often, but that’s mostly because I don’t speak much to the other maids at all. When I clean, I like to think and mull over my thoughts while I do so. It somewhat entertains me. I’m not much of a talker, to begin with, and I never find this much of a disadvantage because of who I am. Most girls of 17would be concerned because of the aspect of engagement and marriages that come with being young. Although I do hope of raising a family one day, I believe I won’t be married anytime soon, simply because of who I am.

 

I begin thinking of the storm again, my skin turning icy cold despite the warm draft in the house upon the noise of the thunder. The thunder was so loud - I remembered how the walls seemed to tremble from the piercing noise. No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I can’t. It’s impossible. I can only imagine how rough the waters were during this storm. That ship being in our waters is a miracle in itself for surviving the storm through the night, that I was certain of.

 

Frowning, I grasp the necklace hanging around my neck reflexively, lost in thought. Something isn’t right.

 

“Roselina!” William shouts from the kitchen. Shaking my head, I head towards him.

 

“What can I do for you, William?”

 

“We don’t have milk! I can’t fight off the pirates if we don’t have milk!” He whines, motioning at his breakfast in distress.

 

“Well, you can ask Julia to go get some? There’s a dairy shop not too far away.” I say.

 

“About that,” Julia comes in, arms filled with dishes. “Could you go? I really need to finish up with these dishes.  I’m pretty sure Sabrina can take care of Alice and William while you’re gone.” she says, placing the dishes in the sink before rolling up her sleeves and grabbing a couple plates. “It really shouldn’t be long, half an hour at the most. You can tell the clerk that we’ll send someone to bring him the money this evening. He usually doesn’t mind. ”

 

“Alright. No problem,” I nod.

 

“Thank you, Roselina!” William claps. “I’ll be able to fight the evil pirates!”

 

I smile and shake my head at his relief before grabbing a bag from the pantry and leaving the estate. The final thing I hear as I close the door is William telling Julia about the storm, and I can’t help but smile to myself as I walk down the steps of the front porch.

 

I have worked here on the estate for a few years now, and over the years, I have grown close to Alice and William. At first, since I was younger, I was afraid to watch over young children. But then I came to notice that they are very well-behaved and don’t wish to cause me trouble. So, inevitably, I grew very close to them, and their needs and wants became a personal priority to me.

 

The sun shines brightly as I walk down the small, pebbled road leading to the town square. The grass still glistens with moisture from the rain last night, and I carefully maneuver my way around thick puddles to avoid soiling my shoes too much. I can’t help hearing the numerous whispers talking about the unusual presence of the ship in the harbor.

 

“Nobody saw anyone come out, don’t you think it’s uncanny?”

 

“Do you think they’re in the city right now, whoever they might be?”

 

“I bet they’re filthy rich: their ship is made of the finest oak I’ve ever seen.”

 

“I do hope they’ll visit my shop.”

 

It is all everybody is talking about. No visitor has ever made such an impression on the town. Ever.

 

A cheery bell chimes as I step into the dairy shop, the strong odor of mixed cheese, cream, and milk hitting me all at once.

 

“Hello, miss! How can I help you?”

 

I jump, startled; my fingers unconsciously latching onto my necklace, as a cheerful voice abruptly greets me.

 

“I am so sorry, I did not mean to frighten you!” The young man apologizes, rapidly walking towards me. “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine,” I gasp, his bright blue eyes suddenly too close to me. “Though I’d appreciate it if you’d take a step back and let me breathe,” I stammer, his closeness completely taking me off guard.

 

“I’m terribly sorry,” he repeats, passing his hand through his brown hair nervously. “I’m new at this,” he continues, his hand dropping to rub his neck.

 

“It’s fine,” I pause.

 

“Niall,” he supplies, holding out his hand for me to shake.

 

“Niall” I repeat his name softly and place my hand in his. My eyes widen as he brings my hand to his lips and kisses it. Never did someone kiss my hand like that.

 

“How can I help you?” He asks, oblivious to how flustered I am from his action. I silently scold myself for growing flustered from something so trivial, and it takes me a moment to remember just why I came here to begin with.

 

“I came here to get a pint of milk,” I answer, looking around to shyly avoid his gaze.

 

“Follow me,” he chirps with a warm smile, taking me farther into the small store. “Wait for me right here,” Niall says, heading behind the counter and into a small room. He returns moments later, arms filled with a box containing multiple bottles of milk. ”Take your pick,” he smiles and heaves the box on the counter.

 

I choose two bottles, and Niall efficiently wraps them in brown paper before tying them together with a piece of rope.

 

“There you go,” he smiles again, handing them over. “Is there anything else you need?”

 

“No, that’ll be all, thank you.”

 

“It’ll be two shillings miss,” Niall says.  “But if you care to tell me your name, it’ll be on the house,” he adds, a cheeky smile dawning his face.

 

I ponder the thought for a second. _What harm could it do? Besides, it’ll save Mrs. Bridgeport some money._

 

“Roselina. My name is Roselina,” I tell him. ”Have a nice day, Niall.” I end, placing the bottles of milk in my bag before turning to leave.

 

“You, too, Roselina!” He says before adding hopefully, “I do hope you’ll come back again someday?”

 

“Perhaps,” I smile, shooting him one last glance before the little bell rings, announcing my departure.

 

◌❤☠❤◌

 

“...and they lived happily, ever, after.” I finish yet another bedtime story and close the book softly. William is fast asleep in his bed, his young face peaceful, his breathing soft. I smile fondly and set the book on the rocking chair, rising to quietly leave the room after putting out the candle next to his bed.

 

As I walk down the stairs, I see Mrs. Bridgeport with her husband in the living room, in front of a warm fire, quietly talking to one another. Although they prove to be very kind and polite, I have yet to become very close to them.

 

The maids of the estate live downstairs in the maid’s quarters, but instead of going down there, I tighten the shawl around me and exit through the front door. The sun is setting off over the horizon, and I see a rowdy group of young children running across the street, their lively voices reaching me from the short distance. They’re playing some kind of game, kicking pebbles with their feet and trying to outrun each other.

 

I stay out of their way and walk alongside the path, looking towards the sky to see it is clear of clouds. Hopefully there won’t be a storm tonight. I doubt there will.

 

Though I am still exhausted, especially after trying to convince William to finally settle into bed, I don’t feel like going to the maid’s quarters just yet. It isn’t bad living there; it’s certainly better and more preferable than living at the orphanage.

 

There are simply times when I enjoy watching the sun set over the beach, and when I arrive at the beach, I see that it’s nearly empty. The harbor is close by, and I can hear the mysterious ship still there, silent and looming. Nonetheless, it seems like a normal ship, though I feel uneasy looking at it, for a reason I cannot explain.

 

I pause for a moment to take off my shoes, setting them gently on the sand and sighing in content as I feel the soft sand touch my bare feet. My feet being sore from all the work I’ve done today, he softness and warmth of the sand feels welcoming .

 

I breathe in the salty sea air, sighing happily. The waves gently kiss the tips of my toes, rolling in serenely from the deep mass of ocean. The sun is well over the horizon by now, lighting the sky with deeper colors, and I can see stars beginning to make their appearance overhead. It’s a lovely sight, and I find myself silently staring in deep thought, lifting my dress to let the cool waves to wash over my bare calves, the sound of their lapping soothing to me.

 

I come here time and time again after a long day. It brings me some kind of consolation, to stare out and see no end to the ocean. You can see the flat line of the sea for as long as the eye can see, no matter how hard you looked. It never seemed to end. Though the ocean tended to be mysterious and uncanny to me at times, it was times like this that made me feel like the ocean was something intriguing, something wondrous… 

 

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing out at a time like this, ay?”

 

A low, quiet voice sounds behind me, breaking through my inner thoughts. Strangely, I’m not startled by their intrusion. I calmly open my eyes and find a man standing next to me with dark eyes and tall stature. I lick my lips and stare back out into the ocean.

 

“It’s a lovely time of day.”

 

“I beg to differ. Thieves are about, and a woman like you would make easy prey.”

 

His voice is cold and detached, yet there’s something strangely suggestive. Goose bumps suddenly rise along my skin, realizing I don’t know who this man is or what he wants.

 

I eye him warily, crossing my arms over my chest. “Would I?”

 

“Ay.” His eyes scan over me, as if searching for something. _Searching for what?_ I’m not sure, but I suddenly don’t want to be near him. I quietly clear my throat and avert my gaze.

 

“Well, I must be going home now. It is getting late.” I mutter, stepping back to leave.

 

However, my breath hitches in my throat when he grasps onto my elbow, suddenly flinging me towards him to where I’m staring up at him. It’s from here where I can truly see how dark his eyes are, almost like he has no color - they’re pitch black, blacker than the night. I stiffen in his hold, prepared to lash out and scream at the first bold move he makes. I’m expecting to see a hungry look in his eyes, his intentions bold and clear.

 

But I’m surprised to see that his eyes hold no such emotion. They give nothing away. He simply looks at my neck, his head tilting as he focusing on something. _But what?_

 

“Let go of me!” I protest sharply, trying to hide the tremor in my voice from our close proximity.

 

He swiftly ignores my plea and reaches towards my neck, sliding an arm around my waist and keeping me from breaking away. I struggle against him, batting my hands against his chest, panic seizing me. _Why won’t he let go of me? What is he staring at?_

 

My entire body freezes when he gently grasps onto my necklace, the only token of my childhood, and his entire face grows completely solemn like a stone mask, his eyes guarded and glancing up at me for an answer.

 

“Please,” I whisper, unable to look away from his powerful gaze.

 

Once more, he doesn’t reply. He simply returns his gaze to the necklace, and suddenly, he pulls hard on it, and the lock snaps. He breaks the lock and holds the necklace in his hand, inspecting it at a closer angle. In doing so, he releases me completely, and I cry out, alarmed and angry that he broke my necklace.

 

“That’s mine!” I protest, fear replaced with anger. I reach for the necklace, but the man merely holds it higher, almost teasingly above my head. Gritting my teeth, I watch as he clenches his jaw in deep thought and looks at me again.

 

His eyes are different. They’re darker, with clearer intentions. They aren’t good - that much I can tell, but I’m too frozen on the spot to move or do anything to stop him. He quietly puts the necklace in the pocket of his jacket, and my heart drops when a low smirk curls along his lips.

 

“Not anymore,” He says, and smoothly removes a pistol from his trousers. He raises it towards the sky and pulls the trigger, releasing a boom louder than the thunder I heard the night before. I flinch from the sudden noise, terror seizing my entire body as I turn to flee, realizing the man isn’t just someone with bad intentions.

 

He isn’t a thief. He’s something more than that. What he did with the pistol was a signal. He was alerting someone of something - but what?

 

“Help!” I scream as his arm encircles my waist again, his breathing heard right in my ear. I blindly elbow him in the stomach just as I hear more booms sound off in the distance, more guns being fired. Screams pierce the air, caught into into the wind, and I’m struggling so viciously in the man’s grasp that I feel as though I’m possessed by a demon. I’m surprised by my strength, but I don’t think much about it as the man simply grasps onto my wrists, turns me around, and bends them at a painful angle.

 

The new position causes me to wince sharply, my knees buckling from the pain. Tears spring in my eyes as I’m easily rendered motionless. If I move, he can easily break my arms.

 

“Let me go,” I murmur quietly, though part of me knows he doesn’t plan on letting me go.

 

Loud laughter sounds from near the harbor along with more gunshots and the metal ringing of  sword fighting. Fearfully, I spare a glance at the town and find people running around, their terrified screams reaching us. _What is going on?_

 

My wrists are released, and I instantly turn to run again when I am face to face with another man. This man has a horribly scarred face, a rotten meat stench emanating from him. Just as I see him, he grabs me and flings me over his broad shoulder like I’m one of Alice’s raggedy dolls.

 

“Take her to the ship,” The man’s cold voice says. “Put her in my quarters. Don’t let her escape.”

 

“Yes, captain.”

 

My entire body stiffens from the word _captain_. _Captain? Captain of what?_

 

And suddenly, it dawns on me. Everything clicks together like a puzzle. The mysterious ship. The lack of men. The signal.

 

 

The ship was a pirate’s ship, and Penzance is currently under attack.

 

I instantly think of William and Alice, and the thought of them being in danger terrifies me to no end. I began writhing on top of the broad-shouldered man, crying out and emitting curses that would make a proper lady blush in humiliation. But I painfully bite my tongue when the man simply swats my posterior, and my face flushes in fury and embarrassment as I hear him chuckle under his breath.

 

“Roselina!” I perk up as I hear a boy calling my name. _It sounds like William!_

 

I double my efforts for release but no matter how hard I fight, the man is stronger than me. He is five times my size, and soon, we aren’t on land anymore. No, he walks up a couple of planks, leading us directly onto the pirate ship’s deck. Looking overhead, I see a new, much darker flag fluttering ominously in the wind, revealing its true identity. Painted alongside of the ship are the words in blood-red color, “Renegade.”

 

Everything is happening so quickly, and I have no time to register before I’m thrown roughly into a room, harshly hitting my chin on the floor. The door slams behind me, and I can feel the ship rocking on the waves already. I’ve never been on a boat or ship before. I instantly rise and start banging on the door, demanding for the man to release me. My voice is hoarse and shrill, and all I hear is the man chuckling at my vain protests.

 

The door won’t give, so I abandon that hope and make my way to the window. But I find that the captain’s quarters is high up, and if I climb out, I have the strong possibility of breaking my limbs. My face pales as I come to the realization that I am, indeed, stuck, and I watch as more pirates swarm the deck, carrying swords and pistols, yelling and snickering like packs of hyenas.

 

My hands tremble, and I nearly fall to the floor if not for holding onto the sill. I can hear the screams from the town. I can only imagine William and Alice being in grave danger. Will they kill children? I knew of the horror that came with pirates - the tales and stories of what they did. But would they stoop so low as to bring harm onto a child?

 

I cover my ears to block out the sounds of the people screaming. I sink onto the floor and begin weeping, realizing I’m stuck here. Perhaps the captain brought me along as a slave. I didn’t know much about pirates and their traditions or rules, so for all I knew, I was here for purposes I can only dread. And my necklace. _Why would he take my necklace?! I know it’s gold, but aren’t his treasure chests filled with gold already?! Why?!_

 

More voices are heard right outside the window, followed by gunshots. It’s a vicious battle, and for a moment, I wonder if I’m dreaming. I wonder if I did go to the quarters and go to sleep rather than visiting the beach. But even if this was a nightmare, I knew it would be difficult for me to forget.

 

Something shifts.

 

I stop weeping, wiping at my eyes and letting my arms fall limp against me when I realise the ship begins moving. I can feel it under me, the waves roughly brushing the sides of the boat. We aren’t sitting still above the water anymore. We’re in motion.

 

Sniffling, I rise and stare out the porthole to find that the harbor is growing farther away. The pirates are on deck, whooping and singing pirate hymns, celebrating their victory. It’s obvious they are triumphant about something, but what? Terrorizing a town? _Is it even possible for one to have no remorse at all? To feel solace in another’s misery?_

 

My entire face pales, and I find it difficult to breath when I see the imposing, thick cloud of smoke rising in the sky above my town. The flames lick the buildings from the distance, and its as if the entire town is engulfed in them.  As if Hell is swallowing it whole.

 

The pirates are chanting songs that sound happy and celebratory, but instead of filling me with joy, they fill me with nothing but cold dread.


	2. Moonlight

Shivers run up my spine as a gunshot rings, followed by rambunctious cheers. My heart pounds loudly in my chest as I try to stay calm and find a solution to all this. I reflexively start pacing in circles, and the ship’s floorboards creak under my weight as my bare feet trudge over them.

 

 The boat rocks sideways, making me stagger. My fingers subconsciously reach for my necklace, but I only end up touching the hollow of my neck. I crumple to the floor, overcome with sadness.

 

Seconds later, the captain brusquely opens the door, startling me. Determined to get answers, I stand up.

 

“Why did you kidnap me?” I ask unwaveringly, placing my hands on my hips. 

 

Without acknowledging me, he tosses his pistol on his desk with a loud thump and removes his jacket, revealing tattered clothes. I watch him, silently stunned that he won’t even look at me. Sighing, he sits lazily in his chair before his hand reaches inside his pocket and pulls out the stolen piece of jewelry. He dangles the golden chain in front of his face, staring at it in fascination.

 

“Why did you take my necklace, ravage my town, and take me away?” I question again, anger bubbling inside me.

 

Again, the man ignores me and deposits the necklace on his desk before leaning in to inspect it.

 

“I said―”

 

“I know what you said,” he silences, shooting me a dark look. “I may be many things, but I certainly ain’t deaf. Now keep your pretty little mouth shut--I’m working.”

 

“But―”

 

A dagger whistles beside my face, a hollow thud resonating as it hits the wood not far behind me. My heart stops. The captain is suddenly standing and shoves me against a solid surface. My head ends up right beside the knife. I gulp.

 

“What did I say?” He asks calmly, though everything about his demeanour screams anger.

 

I can’t help the tears from forming in my eyes, frustration and fear mingling together. Not daring to respond, I look down at my feet and purse my lips.

 

“That’s what I thought.”

 

I’m frozen in fear as his dark eyes pierce through mine menacingly. The dark-haired man takes a step back, cocking his head sideways as he watches me. He says nothing else before reaching beside my head and pulling the knife out of the wooden plank, placing it in his belt.

 

Only when he is a good five feet away do I start breathing again. My knees give in under me, and I end up curling into a ball with my eyes shut, silent tears running down my cheeks. _Come on, Rose... Get a hold of yourself._ I hear him move around, shifting some objects and throwing others on the ground.

 

“Where is it?” He growls, irritation lacing his every word.

 

I cringe as the sound of breaking glass fills my ears. Hesitantly, I open my eyes, afraid of what I may find.

 

“Where is it, damn it?!” He roars, sending papers flying all over the place. He violently opens a couple drawers, throwing its contents to the ground. “There it is,” he grunts, digging inside the smallest one.

 

The captain sighs in relief, wrapping a necklace quite similar to mine between his fingertips. The dark-haired man reaches for my own necklace, placing it right beside the other one. He holds both of them at arm’s length before approaching his window.

 

I watch in awe as the moonlight reflects through both pendants, causing symbols to suddenly materialize on the floor. I gasp in shock. The captain’s gaze lands on me for mere seconds, clearly annoyed. I shrink, trying to disappear into the wall. He drops his hand, making the lighted marks vanish as he does so.

 

“You’re lucky it’s authentic,” he says after a couple seconds, moving away from his window and towards me. “The last few weren’t, so their owners paid the price,” he continues, crouching down so we’re face to face. “How did you get it?” He enquires abruptly, his finger tilting my chin upwards so I’m staring into his eyes.

 

“I’ve had it since I was born,” I answer, my lip trembling from his close proximity. I’m so close to him, I can smell his breath.

 

“Interesting. So it’s heritage?” He probes, curious. I nod hesitantly. “Who are your parents?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“That’s unfortunate, ay?”

 

I don’t reply and look away apprehensively. His hands tightly lock around my jaw, forcing me to meet his soulless eyes.

 

“It’s rude not to look at someone when they’re talking to you,” he warns, face and body tense with irritation.

 

“It’s even ruder to harm women,” I reply, feigning a brave face. He chuckles.

 

“Darlin,’ I don’t care about regulations. I’m a pirate.”

 

“Then why do you care if _I’m_ rude?!”

 

“Because you owe me respect,” he retorts harshly, obliging me to stand up. _I do not owe you anything_ , I seethe internally, biting my lip to avoid speaking my thoughts. “What’s your name?”

 

“Why?”

 

He laughs humorlessly, his fingers pressing harder into my skin. “I’m the one asking questions here, not the other way around.”

 

“Roselina. Roselina Aldrich,” His eyes grow wide and eye me up and down.

 

“Aldrich. You wouldn’t happen to be related to Richald, ay?” He questions, lacing his voice.

 

“How would I know? I’m an orphan.”

 

The captain backs away from me, his eyes seemingly gazing right through me. “Well, you certainly have his eyes,” he decides before turning on his heel and returning to his desk. “Clean up my cabin, darling,” he instructs, placing his feet on the wooden furniture.

 

 _What?! No._ I stand unmoving, anger coursing through my veins as I stare at him indignantly.

 

“Now,” he booms, his voice rattling my bones. Scowling, I do as asked, picking up the various maps and piling them up beside his feet as neatly as I can. I feel his gaze burning a hole through my back as I bend down to gather them all. “Place the ones with an x in the corner in this drawer,” he continues, motioning the one to his right, “and the others in that one,” he ends, motioning the one to his left.

 

I’m not sure why I feel indignant. I should feel terrified of this man. I should cower under his unrelenting gaze.

 

But I don’t.

 

Perhaps it’s because he has yet to lay a finger on me. I don’t know what it is; in the orphanage, I was always taught to be seen, not heard. I used to be beaten for speaking my mind when it wasn’t needed, so I grew accustomed to keeping my thoughts and opinions to myself.

 

For some reason, this pirate captain is drawing something from me I had kept buried for as long as I can remember. I purse my lips and feel my walls rise again, my angering thoughts diminishing, unable to escape my lips. I focus all my attention on cleaning his room; he no longer needs to order me to do anything because I’m already moving on my own accord.

 

It’s only when I finish cleaning do I realize he’s gone.

 

I’m alone in the room, and it’s perfectly clean. I wasn’t sure of where to put everything, but I put them all in places I could think of. If the captain disapproved of the items’ placements, he never let it show.

 

I can hear men speaking outside, and I sigh to myself as I slowly sit on the bed. The open window lets a breeze wash through the room, and I can smell the tangy scent of salty water - it’s a foreign smell, and I’ve always dreamed of experiencing it, but right now, it’s not the way I imagined it.

 

I had always dreamed of embarking on the open sea, to find and experience adventures. Never have I thought of being captured by a pirate and being held captive in his quarters. I fiddle with my fingers nervously as the fear comes back into play, my mind having its toll on me.

 

I think about why the captain brought me here.

 

It’s obvious he has interest in my necklace, and I bit gently on my lower lip as I mull over why he would take interest in it. I cannot remember exactly how or when I received the necklace. I was only told that it belonged to my mother, and I always wore it because it became a part of me. I could scarcely remember a time when I didn’t have it wrapped around my neck.

 

Still. Why would he bring me here for a necklace?

 

I knew pirates were greedy thieves who prowled the seas for unprotected ships to steal from. I knew they were thugs and low-life creatures. But why would he go through the trouble of seizing a town under an attack and bringing me, a girl, on board? Wasn’t it bad luck for a pirate ship to carry a girl, or was that simply a myth?

 

A round of loud, cackling laughter sounded from the door, and I stiffen on the bed, eyeing it warily. _What if pirates break through the door and have their way with me?_   The thought sounds rash and insane, but what else can I expect? These men have been at sea for months or even years without laying eyes on a girl. There’s no doubt a girl will stir crude thoughts…

 

Strangely, the captain didn’t seem to have eyes for me. He locked me in here and left me alone. It’s obvious that he doesn’t wish to toy with me, that lust doesn’t drive his intentions for having me here. This still leaves the question as to why I’m even here, and I cannot conjure an answer to the question, no matter how hard I mull over the matter.

 

I wait there for what feels like hours, expecting someone to come to the door. Anyone. But soon enough, I’m laying on the bed, my stomach growling with hunger. Fatigue empowers me but I’m too afraid to close my eyes and let my guard down. I’m afraid that if I do, someone will take advantage of me.

 

It grows dark outside, and soon, I’m staring out the window as the sun sets over the horizon. The sky is lit in beautiful colors - colors I have never seen before with my own eyes. I’ve only seen these array of colors in paintings drawn by influenced artists, so I’m unable to waver my gaze when I have the chance to see them. It’s a beautiful sight, and I find myself wishing I was in better circumstances to be able to witness something so magnificent.

 

The ocean water seems almost calm in this time of day. My stomach is slightly uneasy from the rocking of the ship, but luckily, I haven’t gotten seasick. The water seems to glimmer under the tranquil lighting, and I silently wonder what kinds of creatures lay underneath or how deep it is. The thought somewhat frightens me because I’ve heard many tales of what kinds of creatures much live under something so deep; certainly they must be huge, and I wonder if these pirates can fend off a monster if one chooses to attack the ship.

 

I chuckle to myself, feeling too imaginative reminiscing the stories I’ve read. I’ve always loved reading stories and losing myself in the author’s adventure.

 

A sudden noise brings me from my thoughts, and I look down on the ship to see a bonfire and men surrounding it. There’s music, and I can hear them talking animatedly to one another from below. They’re drinking rum and celebrating for something.

 

Celebrating for what? Destroying a town?

 

Before I know it, I’m weeping, and I have to look away from the sickeningly joyous scene because I’m not sure if William or Alice survived the attack. It’s a huge possibility that most of the people I’ve seen for the past years of my life were dead at the moment, and the thought alone destroys me.

 

I remember the flames eating away at the city as the pirates sang their song of triumph at sea. I remember the screams I heard as the pirate carried me over his shoulder, onto the ship and into captivity. I close my eyes tightly and will the tears to stop, but they don’t.

 

I’ll never be able to forget the screams or the flames.

 

I grasp tightly onto the blanket sitting on the bed and grit my teeth, trying to think of a way to escape. I can’t throw myself overboard - that’s out of the question. I wonder if there are lifeboats, but I doubt I’d have the courage to embark on the sea in a small boat, alone.

 

The door suddenly opens behind me, and my breathing instantly picks up upon being startled from the abrupt noise. The captain strides into the room without looking at me.

 

I look away when he strips out of his shirt, and I listen as clothing is shuffled and tossed to the floor. He’s changing. My cheeks flush from the thought, and I bite my tongue to refrain from saying anything as I dreadfully wait for what comes next.

 

“Get off the bed.”

 

I look up to see his dark eyes staring at me. They’re somewhat unfocused, but they’re still deadly. I swallow thickly.

 

“What?”

 

“Get off my bed. _Now_.” His tone is colder, icier and less patient as I simply stare up at him.

 

Shakily, I pull myself off his bed and onto wobbly knees. I anxiously wait for what’s to happen next, and I expect him to grab me or harm me. But instead, he simply lies on the bed and turns his back on me. I stand there for a few moments, watching, until I realize he’s about to go to sleep.

 

I lick my lips and wonder if I should speak up and ask what I’m to do. I glance at the door and realize I have a chance of running.

 

With my heart racing, I quietly rush to the door and grab onto the knob. Then I turn. The knob doesn’t turn; it’s locked from the inside. I curse inside my head and slowly turn around to see the captain still facing the other way. I wonder if he even knows what I’m doing right now.

 

That’s when my eyes fall upon his desk, and I remember all the things I settled on it. The lighting is dim in the room, with only the moonlight filtering in through the open window, and I freeze for a moment as my mind goes over all the things I picked up from the floor.

 

I watch his form on the bed carefully, gauging any signs of movement as I silently go to the desk and blindly search for the keys I picked up earlier. I’m not sure if the keys are for the door, but it’s certainly worth a try. The captain lets off a sigh, and my entire body freezes in horror, waiting for his dark eyes to open and see me rummaging around on his desk.

 

But he doesn’t.

 

He simply shuffles a little on the bed and goes silent again.

 

I go back to searching for the keys, and after a few moments, my fingers come into contact with the cool metal. I smile to myself in relief and hold my breath as I rush back to the door. With trembling hands, I push the key into the hole and turn, praying it works.

 

This time, when I twist the knob, it turns.

 

The door opens with a small creak.  I’m about to bolt into the dark, narrow hallway when my hair is grabbed from behind, and I’m pulled harshly back into the cabin. I yelp loudly from the burning sensation in my scalp, and the door slams closed. I’m staring up at a pair of dark, furious eyes set with a seething scowl.

 

“You little wench,” The captain snarls, towering over me. I smell his breath, the harsh scent of rum. He drank earlier - not a lot, but he drank nonetheless.

 

I instantly back into the room and fall clumsily onto the bed. I helplessly crawl towards the window as a final resort, but he grabs onto my ankle and drags me back towards him.

 

“Let go of me!” I shout, flailing viciously in his grip. I kick my legs and twist my body, but his grip is tight and unrelenting. He pulls me even more towards him, and I feel the fury emanating from his body.

 

“I can’t believe you’re stupid enough to try to fool a pirate,” he seethes, his fingers digging bruises in my skin. I gasp as he tugs me off the bed and throws me painfully to the floor. “You want to get out? Fine.” he continues, holding to my left ankle as he drags me through his cabin and out the door.

 

I squirm in his hold, trying desperately to stop him by grabbing anything we’d cross. I manage to grasp the corner of a wall and whimper as he tugs me sharply.

 

“Next time, I’m slicing those fingers off, hear me?” he menaces, towing me out the small corridor and onto the deck.

 

“Let go!” I protest. He’s pulling me right across the celebration his crew was having.

 

“Blimey Capt’n! Got a feisty one, ay?” One of them laughs and the others join.

 

“I’ll bet’cha her skin’s porcelain!”

 

I squeal in shock as a pair of hands latch around my thigh. Brusquely, the captain let’s go of my leg and pulls his knife out of his belt. My heart is pounding. I hurry to stand, but the pirate pulls out a rifle from his boot and points it at me, daring me to move.

“Keep your bloody hands off her, mate, or you’ll lose them,” he warns menacingly, towering over the man who touched me, the knife pressed at his throat. “Am I clear, Mr. Barnes?” he sneers, a bead of blood forming on the older man’s neck from the pressure the weapon was applying.

 

“Very, Captain Malik.”

 

“And let this be a warning to all of you filthy scoundrels!” the dark-haired man adds, turning around to look at all of them. “I don't want any of you near the lady! Not without my permission!”

 

“Ay.”

 

Without adding anything else, he grunts and shoves his weapons back into his belt before grabbing my arm and dragging me away. I’m forced down a set of stairs, then another and a third, the smell of rotten fish and salty water mingling strongly once we’re at the very bottom of the ship makes me wince. A thin sheet of water covers the floor, making my feet cold and wet.

 

“There.” He shoves me into a cell-like chamber. “Welcome to the brig. Sleep tight, Miss Aldrich,” he finishes, locking me in. “Oh, and mind the rats,” he adds, disappearing up the half-broken wooden staircase.

 

I rattle the iron door furiously. I’m only met with silence. After a couple minutes, I give up. Shoulders sagging, I trudge my feet through the water and sit on the small bench my cell provides. I curl into a ball, and the iciness of the water makes me shiver.

 

“Hey.”

 

My head flips up, surprised. The voice sounds familiar.

 

“Who is it?” I enquire hesitantly. I squint and look around in front of me. There seems to be nothing except multiple barrels and brown sacks.

 

“Roselina?”

 

My eyes widen as I spot a blonde head peeking out from behind a wooden barrel. I finally recognize his blue eyes and associate it to his voice.

 

“Niall?!” I gasp in surprise.

 

“Shhh, not too loud,” he winces, looking up apprehensively.

 

“Your hair...What happened to your hair?” I ask, confused. His hair isn’t brown as I remember. It’s a bright blonde color. I almost don’t recognize him, if not for his accent and bright, blue eyes.

 

“Something called Peroxide… I accidentally dropped it on my head after you left this morning, and, well, my hair turned blonde,” he shrugs, shuffling out of his hiding spot.

 

“Why are you here?!” I stammer as he comes to the door of my cell.

 

“I could ask you the same thing, Miss Roselina… Haven’t people told you it wasn’t a good idea to mingle with pirates?” he whispers.

 

“The captain wanted me. He stole my necklace and took me.”

 

“I followed you onboard when I saw you on that pirates shoulder. I even called your name, but you didn’t see me.”

 

I mull over his words and realize I did hear someone calling my name, but I was too caught up in the moment to be able to focus and recognize who it was. Seeing Niall made me suddenly feel very weak and feeble, and without thinking, I pull forward and hug him tightly. He smells sweaty yet musky, and something about him consoles me, if anything and I don’t feel the least bit ashamed at my rash moment of weakness because Niall is good. He’s selfless. He saw me being carried on the ship and tried to save me, practically leaving his family behind.

 

I’ve never had anyone do something so nice for me.

 

“Are you okay?” Niall whispers as he hugs me back, his hands rubbing my back softly. I sniffle and close my eyes, hoping I won’t start crying in front of him. The emotions are hitting me powerfully without any warning.

 

“No,” I murmur. “I’m not.”

 

“Don’t worry. They’re bound to stop at the next port. We can think of something by then.” He says.

 

“Do they know you’re here?”

 

“No. I came down here as soon as they set sail.”

 

I gulp thickly, knowing that if the pirates find Niall, he’ll most likely be thrown overboard or become a crewmember. It would be dangerous if he was caught down here. _Perhaps I can do something to help…_

 

“Niall, listen to me. If they find you down here, you’ll be as good as dead.” I say, pulling away to stare into his eyes, hoping he can see the desperation. “These pirates are ruthless.” I lick my lips, remembering how the captain threatened his own men because they touched me. I was glad he did, but he was still frightening, nonetheless. “You have to stay down here.”

 

Niall furrowed his eyebrows. “How?”

 

“Just...stay down here. I don’t think the captain wants me in his quarters. I can sneak down food and water.” I explain, hoping I’m right.

 

“Where will you be staying?”

 

I hesitate and stare down at my lap, feeling my cheeks flush. “With the captain.”

 

Niall gasps and his face turns grave. “Are you serious?” His own cheeks flush with anger, and his blue eyes swirl with fury. I know what he’s thinking. He thinks the captain wants me for his own sick amusement.

 

“It’s not what you think,” I say quickly. “I’m still unsure of why he took me, but I don’t think I’m here for...that reason.”

 

“It’s not safe for you on deck,” Niall growls. “With all those pirate scum―”

 

I reach out and grasp onto his arm. My face is sober, and I’m fighting back tears. “Please don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. But for right now, can we get some rest?” My voice is hoarse and weak, and I suddenly don’t have the will to fight or plot against the pirates. I cannot think of any means of escape at the moment, so I find it pointless to rage and question as to why this is happening.

 

Niall notices my obvious distress, and his features soften. “You’re right. I apologize. If you want, I can stay awake while you sleep.”

 

“No, aren’t you tired as well?”

 

He grins. “I’ve slept for a good few hours, so I’m not tired right now.”

 

I slowly nod and glance around us. This certainly isn’t comfortable with me. The air is cold and stale, and I’m shivering because of it. Darkness surrounds us, and I don’t like looking through it because I fear something will pop out at me.

 

“I’m very sorry this happened to you,” Niall whispers as I lean back against the wall and hug myself, trying to feel warmer. He sits next to me on the bench and wraps a comforting arm around my smaller, trembling form, and I lean against him, burying my head in his damp shirt. He feels warm, and I know it’s improper to be so close to someone like this, but I feel as though being improper doesn’t matter in this kind of situation.

 

“Thank you.” I whisper, before closing my eyes and letting Niall hold me as I quietly fall asleep.


	3. Disobeying

“Roselina!” Niall whisper-shouts, shaking me slightly. “Someone’s coming! I have to hide!”

 

I react rapidly upon hearing his words, indeed hearing a person walking down the set of creaking stairs. The blonde removes himself from beside me, shooting me a worried glance before returning to yesterday’s hiding place. I pretend I’m asleep when the pirate approaches the iron bars. As he unlocks it and pushes it open with a loud, rusty sound, I blink rapidly, faking I had just woken up. I even add a yawn for good measure.

 

The light from outside shines through the porthole, revealing the captain to be the intruder. He looks at me for a few moments before saying anything.

 

“Your clothes.” he states, looking at me up and down. I frown, glancing down at myself. “You need to change them. Wouldn’t want you getting sick and  throwing up all over the place. Come.”

 

I sit unmoving, watching him as he turns to leave.

 

“One thing you’ll learn, Miss Aldrich, is that I absolutely loathe repeating myself,” he says between clenched teeth, without looking at me. “Therefore I strongly suggest you don’t toy with my patience because it is quite thin,” he threatens.

 

Shooting one last look in Niall’s direction, I stand up, shivering as my feet bathed in the small puddle of water, and hurry behind him.

 

I squint once we’re back on deck, the brightness of the morning mixed with the reflexion of the ocean blinding me momentarily. The ship buzzes with activity. A man wielding a mop rushes past us while a group of other men carry buckets towards the other side of the ship. People are doing things everywhere, and the air is lively and energetic.

 

There’s a man shouting orders to a smaller group of men. I look up and find a man on one of the rafters, reaching over to fix something. I grow dizzy from looking up at him, knowing how high he is and how easy it would be to fall. Surely he would break something if he did fall.

 

“Morning, captain,” A young lad greets with a wide smile. I can instantly tell he has a lot of energy; he has lively, green eyes and curly, thick brown hair. Though he’s slightly taller than the captain, he has a young face, and I wonder how old he is.

 

His eyes meet mine for a moment, and I quickly avert my gaze to my shoes.

 

The captain merely grunts and says, “Get back to work.” Then he tightly grasps onto my wrist and pulls me forcefully behind him. He takes long strides and doesn’t release his hold on my wrist. I have to practically run to keep up with him, and by the time we’re entering his quarters, I’m out of breath.

 

“Take off your clothes.” The captain says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. I glance down at my damp clothing, knowing fully well that I will get sick of I stay in them for too long. But he is in the room, and it’s highly improper to undress in front of a man’s eyes...even if he is a pirate.

 

“Leave the room.” I say quietly.

 

He freezes and looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

 

I lick my lips and glance at the door. My cheeks are burning, and I feel mortified just from the thought of this vile man seeing me undress. “I can’t undress in front of you.”

 

“Why not?”

 

I shouldn’t have to explain why it’s improper to dress in front of a man, so I don’t bother doing it. I simply stare at him, not willing to move, and I can tell he’s getting irritated as the seconds pass by.

 

“I’m not a man of patience,” He says quietly, too quietly, and the sound of his tone makes me nervous. “Take off your clothes.”

 

“I’ll undress if you leave the room.”

 

I see a vein bulging in his neck, and his nostrils flare as he glowers furiously at me. He’s the captain of his ship, I mull, and he’s not used to having a captive that refuses to do what he says.

 

“You’re in no position to bargain with me. Undress right now, or I’ll tear your clothes apart myself.”

 

This isn’t just about the clothes, I realize. He isn’t angry because of the concept of me getting ill. No, this is a pride issue. He doesn’t like it when people disobey him, I can tell by the way he’s waiting for me to obey. But I won’t obey. This despicable man destroyed my town, but I won’t let him control me. I’d die before that happens.

 

The tension fills in the room. I glance at the door again, wondering if it’s locked, and his gaze follows mine.

 

It all happens in a few moments.

 

I quickly bolt for the door, and it opens easily with a loud thud. I’m running down the hall as quickly as I can, intending to get away from the captain. I know I can’t escape the ship - I know I’m trapped here, but it was a split-moment decision. I’m not sure if I’ll regret it or not, but I couldn’t just stand there with his eyes watching me as I undress. I shiver when I just think about it.

 

The hallways are narrow and confusing. I hear the captain shouting behind me, ordering his men to seize me. Because of this, I lengthen my strides and hope for any miracle to send my way - anything to help me out of this perilous situation.

 

I reach a small stairway and leap up the stairs, hitching the ends of my dress so I don’t trip over them. I have a moment where I meet gazes with the captain; he’s halfway down the hallway, and my heart plummets from the lethal look in his gaze.

 

This is a mistake, I realize. Once he catches me, I fear what will happen. But I can’t just stop now.

 

My breath hitches, and I unlatch the metal door and throw it open. I stumble onto the deck and am met with a furious gust of wind. I quickly close the door and take off running across the deck. I’ve forgotten how many people were out up here, however, and I nearly run into men in the midst of working.

 

Most of the men notice me last minute and stop what they’re doing in shock. They’re confused as to what I’m doing out here, running and flustered. They don’t know if they should seize me or stay away, since the captain made it clear to everyone on deck that they aren’t allowed to touch me.

 

“First one to catch her gets the day off!” The captain shouts angrily. Everyone automatically starts moving, trying to get their hands on me. I am now a prize, which doesn’t help the situation I’m in - at all.

 

Thinking quickly, I glance up the main mast and notice the numerous nets leading upwards to the small observation deck. It’s empty. _Surely they won’t climb all at once._

 

I rapidly grasp the closest net and start climbing at fast as I can.

 

“All of you, stop moving!” The captain instructs from below as I keep climbing, my breath running thin.

 

Without looking down, I focus on getting my hands and feet higher each time, until I finally reach the small deck and haul myself on it.

 

Up here, the wind is much stronger, and I feel as though I may sway and fall off at any moment. I’m not even sure of where to go from here, but it’s better than down there.

 

“Roselina!” he growls. I lean my head on the mast, refusing to look down as I try to catch my breath. “If I have to send someone up to get you, you’re going to have to undress not only in front of me, but in front of the whole crew!!”

 

My blood runs cold. There’s a roar of cheers underneath me, and I feel sick. I know he’s not bluffing. My hands are shaking.

 

“You have ten seconds to choose!”

 

 _I have to go down alone. I have to._ I peek over the side of the platform and wince when I see the whole mast is encircled by the pirates.

 

“Five seconds!”

 

Pushing my pride aside, I take a deep breath and swing my leg back onto the nets. My fingers and feet ache as I will myself to climb back down, reddening as they grip the rough rope. I descend as slowly as I can to avoid friction.

 

“You’re excessively slow Roselina,” the captain remarks scornfully. “I’ll keep that in mind when you get undressed.”

 

“My fingers hurt!” I protest. “I can’t go any faster!”

 

“That is your problem darlin’. You’re the one who foolishly climbed up those nets.”

 

I grit my teeth, cheeks flaming as I pursue my descent. Once I’m closer to him, his revolting hands grab my upper arm tightly, and he pulls me off.

 

“Off to work, ya scurvy dogs!” the dark-haired man growls, tugging me to him. There’s a chorus of grunts, followed by another man’s shout.

 

“Ya heard the captain!  This deck has to be sparkling by zenith!” I shoot a rapid glance at the brown-eyed man. He and the captain seem to be about the same age. I don’t have the time to dwell much on the thought, though, as I’m towed back into the captain’s quarters.

 

I stumble as I’m roughly shoved to the floor. I hear the door shut loudly, followed by the clear sound of a bolt being sealed shut.

 

“Show me your hands.”

 

I look up at him, confused.

 

“I’m beginning to think you have a death wish, Miss Aldrich,” he declares humorlessly. “Toying with me like that is very unwise.” I turn my hands towards him, and to my surprise, he inspects them. “You definitely are too delicate for this ship,” he continues, his thumb passing over the welts made by the ropes.

 

“Then let me go!” I say, pulling my hands back to myself.

 

He looks at me, uninterested.

 

“You haven’t filled your purpose yet.”

 

“And that is?”

 

“For me to know and you to find out,” he silences dryly. I gasp as he suddenly shoves me to the floor before straddling me. “And since you love disobeying me,  I’ve decided not to be a gentleman about undressing you anymore.”

 

I shriek in fright as he slides his dagger easily right down the center of my chest, splitting my dress in half. I struggle, trying to cover myself as well as push him off my vulnerable body. The pirate easily holds me down, flipping me around and pinning my hands behind my back as he rips my soggy dress off me.

 

“No! Please!” I cry, attempting to roll into a ball but failing. Way too soon for my liking, I’m in my under garments. My cheeks are flaming red.

 

He pulls away, licking his lips and cocking his head sideways. I feel abused, lying at his feet without much to cover myself. The tears sting my eyes once more. I clench my fists, curling my body to keep myself as hidden as possible. I keep my head down as I hear him walk across the room and open what sounds like a door. Shuffling follows.

 

“Here.” I wince as he throws a bundle of material in front of me. “Put this on.”

 

Anxious to be dressed again, my fingers clench around the fabric, and I bring it to my chest. My eyes meet his underneath my lashes.

 

“You’re going to have to stand, darlin,’ if you want to get inside that dress,” he says out, looking at me pointedly. The fact that he’s right makes me nauseous.

 

His arms are crossed over his chest, eyes watching me closely, daring me to further disobey him. I can tell he’s beyond annoyed, and I know it’s a miracle he hasn’t laid a hand on me.

 

I bite back any comment that rises up my throat and stand on shaky legs. I’m still clutching onto the fabric, my cheeks blazing under his close stare. His eyes are powerful, his stare daunting. However, he isn’t staring at me in lust; he’s staring at me intensely, and I think this is all a pride issue. He doesn’t like the fact that I disobeyed him, and in return, he openly humiliated me in front of his entire crew to teach me a lesson.

 

I tear my gaze from his and let out a quiet sigh. I turn around, but a hand winds sharply in my hair and forces me back around. I wince loudly from the pain and nearly drop the fabric.

 

“Ah, no darlin’,” He coos mockingly. “Stay facing me.” He releases my hair and taps me on the cheek, his lips curled into a patronizing smirk. “Red suits you.”

 

I have never felt so degraded before. I know the situation can be so much worse; this pirate captain isn’t forcing his way with me, but he is making me feel like a child being berated for sticking their hand in the cookie jar. He’s humiliating and intimidating, and he infuriates and frightens me at the same time.

 

I have never necessarily been self conscious of my body. I’m not vain in the essence as to feeling far prettier than other girls my age. I know I’m not someone out of the ordinary, and I know I’m not considered beautiful. I’m not afraid to reveal myself entirely to this vile man because I’m ashamed; I don’t want to reveal myself to him because of who he is. It’s the fact that he’s expecting me to do it, and the concept alone disgusts me.

 

I have read stories about men like this, and these men were always the villains. In the end, they always end up losing what they worked so hard to gain. I silently remind myself of this as I eye the fabric, the anger only continuing to rise within me.

 

I clutch onto it tighter, raise my eyes to meet his squarely, and spit directly in his face.

 

“I refuse to undress in front of a man like you,” I snarl, growing instantly fearful by the look he returns.

 

His mouth is agape, and my saliva oozes down his chin. The spit landed right between his eyebrows, above his nose, and the sight could be considered humorless if not for who I spat on.

 

He releases a growl, too furious to utter words, and I back away just as he reaches for me. Clutching the fabric tighter to me, I quickly press myself against the wall, since he blocks me from the doorway--my only means of escape.

 

Sadly, spitting on him is another one of my rash mistakes. I don’t realize that I’m trapped in this room with him until it’s too late.

 

His hand clutches around my neck, squeezing tightly enough to cut off some of my air supply. I instantly think that this is the end, that he will choke the life out of me, so I mindlessly drop the fabric to the floor and stare him in the eyes as he seizes my life in his very grip.

 

“My patience is gone,” He snarls. “If you disobey me one time--just one more time, I promise you I will not hold back. I have been nothing but merciful to you. I could’ve stolen your innocence and had my way with you, but instead, I’ve treated you fairly. And this is how I’m repaid?”

 

I choke under his unrelenting grip, my fingers trying to pry his off of my sensitive skin, to no avail. I can’t bring myself to look away from his eyes. I’ve never seen eyes that were so dark and soulless.

 

“Is that what you want?” His voice lowers to a low murmur, edgy and dangerous. He leans closer, and our lips are merely inches from one another. I can taste his breath. He gently loosens his grip on my throat, letting one of his fingers drum against my skin. “Do you want me to take away your innocence, Miss Aldrich? You seem like you’re pure, but looks can be deceiving...who's to say you’re not a vixen underneath this innocent facade?”

 

I close my eyes as he leans even closer. I feel him breathing across my neck now, and his midsection presses against mine. My stomach plummets when I feel his hardness, and my cheeks blaze brighter than they ever had from the foreign sensation. I have never been this close to a man--ever. Especially so underdressed.

 

“I can destroy you. I can do things to you that would make you wish you were thrown overboard. I’d keep that in mind if I were you, Miss Aldrich.”

 

With that said, he releases me, and I collapse onto the ground, tears streaming down my face and choking on my own breath. My throat burns from the hold he had, and my lungs are on fire from lack of oxygen. It’s hard to believe that a moment ago, I was close to death. He could’ve killed me right then and there; he held my life in his hand.

 

The sound of a door slamming snaps me from my thoughts, and I find that I’m alone in the room again. Instead of relieving me, this makes me cry harder, because I know that sooner or later, he’s bound to return.

 

With a shaky sigh, I reach for the fabric to get dressed.

 

◌❤☠❤◌

 

 

I’m left alone for a few hours to my thoughts.

 

The thoughts I have trouble me, and soon, I force myself to stare out the window and ponder over them. Instinctively, I reach up to touch my necklace, but find that it’s gone.

 

He has it.

 

I frown to myself and force myself not to start crying again. That necklace meant everything to me. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember, and it always brought solace and consolation to me in my darkest times. It was almost as if it became part of me, and now that it’s gone, I feel like part of me is missing.

 

Pursing my lips to keep the tears at bay, I shakily sit on the bed and hug myself, taking a moment to look over the small room once again and finding nothing that can benefit me in my situation. No matter how hard I try to find a hole in the captain’s ploy, I come up fruitless. The hopelessness of the situation continues to bear down on me, and I feel it weighing heavily on my shoulders as I inevitably contemplate everything that’s happened so far.

 

Soon enough, I’m crying again, and I can’t help but feel pathetic because I’ve never cried this much in a short amount of time. I still don’t understand why I’m even here or what the captain wants with me or why he even wants my necklace, but he obviously needs me for something. And whatever that is, it cannot be good, since pirates are never known to have any good intentions.

 

I vaguely hear knocking at the door, but I quiet down my crying and stare at the door, waiting for it to swing open and the captain to step inside. But instead, the knocking continues.

 

“Oi, Zayn!” The door then opens, revealing the curly-haired boy I saw earlier on deck. He stops dead in his tracks upon noticing me. I instantly lower my gaze, not wanting him to see my vulnerable and wretched state. Instead, I stare down at his boots as he slowly steps into the room.

 

“Miss, are you okay?” He enquires softly.

 

I shakily wipe away some tears as I hesitate to reply. We’re silent for a few moments, and I hesitantly raise my gaze to meet his. I’m surprised to see genuine concern staring back at me.

 

“I’m Harry,” he starts, unsure. “I’m the cabin boy,” he continues, approaching me. I say nothing, looking at my feet. I flinch as he takes a seat beside me, not liking his closeness. He was a pirate, too, after all.

 

“Who is Zayn?” I ask finally, daring to look at him.

 

“Zayn? He’s the captain. But you can’t call him that,” Harry frowns. “If I had known you were here, I wouldn’t have called him by his surname. He doesn’t really like it.”

 

_Zayn. It fits him._

 

“Why do you call him by his surname, then?” I question.

 

“We have… history together.  I used to call him that all the time. It’s hard to correct the habit,’ he shrugs then pauses and looks at me. “What about you? What is your name?”

 

“Not important,” I sigh, digging my face into my hands. His manners remind me of Niall. Niall who’s hiding in the brig right now. A wave of emotion hits me.

 

“It’s more than alright if you don’t wish to tell me,” he speaks quickly, his hand rubbing my back in what is meant as a reassuring way.

 

I jump as the door opens brusquely, the captain stepping in, still looking annoyed.

 

“Harry? You were asking for me?” he starts, looking between the two of us. His eyes zero on the curly-haired boy’s hand on my back, then to my crying face. “Get your hands off her, Styles!” he booms. “I thought I was clear about not touching her!”

 

“Yes, Captain, but she started crying, and I only wanted to-”

 

“I don’t want to hear it! Get back on deck, I’ll take care of you in a few!’ he demands.

 

“Yes, Sir,” Harry quips in a timid voice, shooting me an apologetic glance before scrambling out of the room. He’s a clumsy person, because he nearly trips over his own legs racing out the door. Or perhaps he is that nervous around the captain. I can’t blame him. I can only imagine how the captain treats his crew members…

 

I think for a moment that the captain is going to speak with me. But he only glares at me for a few moments before turning to leave. My desperation grows, and soon, I speak without even thinking.

 

“Zayn.”

 

He freezes upon hearing his surname and looks over his shoulder, as if he’s unable to believe what I just said. “What did you just call me?”

 

I lick my lips timidly. “I want my necklace back.”

 

“Let me make something very clear to you.”

 

He towers over me, his gaze dark and dangerous, and my neck begins to throb as a painful reminder of what he did to me the last time I angered him. I go to back away, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me flush against him.

 

Part of me is confused because he seems like he’s about to kiss me. His eyes are even staring down at my lips, his head tilted, though his features are set in an ugly, irritated scowl.

 

“Don’t ever call me by that name.” He whispers. Gently, he runs his finger across my chin, almost caressing me, though his touch makes me shiver in fear. “Do I make myself clear?”

 

I feebly nod, and I feel my bottom lip trembling. “I-I want my necklace back.”

 

He stares at me in muted silence for a few moments before he mumbles, “This necklace holds significance to you.” It’s not a question; it’s an observation he voices aloud.

 

“It means everything to me.”

 

His lips twitch into a very small, conniving smirk, and his eyes gleam darkly. “What will you do to have it back?”

 

“What?”

 

He leans even closer, and I back away because of how close our lips are. He tightens his grip on my wrist and snakes his other arm around my waist, bringing me even tighter against him. My cheeks are blazing again, and I feel dizzy; every inch of our bodies are pressed against one another, with only the fabric of our clothes as separation.

 

“How far will you go,” He murmurs, “to get it back?”

 

His tone is low and husky, and I instantly know what he’s referring to. I stare at him in stunned silence, unable to speak because of how appalled I am at his forward statement. I shouldn’t be surprised, of course, since he is a pirate. But still.

 

“You’re revolting,” I say through gritted teeth, wanting to spit on his cocky face but remembering what happened the last time.

 

His smirk widens, and a humorless chuckle escapes him as he abruptly releases me. I realize he is only playing with me, to gauge my reaction at what he said. He openly chuckles at my expression, and I feel embarrassed all over again, but I can’t do anything about it except let him laugh.

 

“Women are nothing but trouble,” he states, getting himself together and straightening his jacket. “No wonder they say having a woman on board is bad luck,” he ends to himself, shooting me one last look before leaving me alone in his cabin once again.


	4. Prisoner

Due to the fact that one can’t see outside when in the brig, it’s nearly impossible to tell what time of day it is. There is no trace of light there; the captain won’t even permit a lone lantern to be hung along the walls. Thus, no matter if it’s day or night, it’s always pitch-black.

 

After two days, I’ve come to learn that the sounds from above signal what time of day it is.

 

During the night, it’s silent and almost eerie. You can hear the occasional sound of footsteps trudging along or the murmuring of voices. In the morning though, the sounds come alive in lively interludes. Shouts are heard, things being pulled along across the deck, orders being called to the crew of the ship. It’s the exact opposite of the silence, and all the while, the ship continues its rocking, which varies based on the weather.

 

Sometimes the ship rocks violently, tipping back and forth. Last time it did, I emptied my lunch and dinner and felt sick for hours because of the constant motion. And other times, it’s gentle and almost soothing, and it’s easier to sleep at night because of it, even if there’s constant darkness and confusion as to what lay ahead.

 

Zayn and I have seldom spoken to each other since the day I ran out across the deck. I’ve tried my best not to look in his eyes, and I’ve done everything I can not to speak to him. Whenever he asks me a question, I answer, but other than that, we don’t have engaging conversations.

 

I have never met a man like Zayn. To this very day I cannot believe what he said about girls, expressing his view on them. I know that girls are not necessarily equal to men and that men were to be the head of families and seen as the dominant figure, but nonetheless, I still feel irked from Zayn’s blatant and careless view, although it shouldn’t surprise me. Pirates rarely kept women on their ships because it was seen as bad luck, and pirates tended to use women to satisfy their needs--that and nothing more. Pirates never looked at women other than jewels to be touched and admired; they never considered women to be something more than that.

 

I’ve also come to look forward to my nights in the brig, not only for the quietness, but because of Niall. Niall proved to be an intriguing individual with a sense of lightness that consoled me. There were no times when he wasn’t able to make me laugh or smile, no matter how tired or irritated I was.

 

I can already feel that I’m making a friend of Niall, and I’m happy from the thought. Even if I’m stuck on a ship of pirates, at least I have one person I can depend on, right?

 

“So do you have any siblings?” I enquire, sitting on the small platform that had served me as a bed for the last two days. We had done a lot of talking, getting to know each other as much as possible.

 

“I do have a brother. He got engaged in the military though I was about ten years-old, so I didn’t really get the chance to talk to him that much,” Niall supplies. He pauses, lost in thought before turning to look at me. “What about you?”

 

“None that I know of. I’m an orphan remember?”

 

“Right, sorry.”

 

The ship lurches suddenly, and I am thrown forward, and Niall catches me just in time before I fall head first onto the cold, unrelenting floor.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Peachy. I’m still not used to being on a ship,” I chuckle, my heart beating erratically in my chest due to the unexpected fall. “Thanks for catching me… I don’t know what Zayn would’ve done if he came back to check on me and my clothes are all wet. He’d probably force me to change in front of him all over again,” I mutter, shivers raking my body at the memory.

 

The blonde stiffens beside me. “I still can’t believe he made you do that,” he scowls angrily. “You should have slapped him. Or kicked him even. He would’ve deserved it.“

 

“Well, I did spit on him and nothing good came out of that,” I point out.

 

“We have to get you out of here,” Niall declares. “Next time the boat stops in a harbour, we’re getting out of this ship.”

 

“How? I’m pretty certain that if the ship does drop the anchor, the captain will keep me tightly locked up somewhere.”

 

The blonde looks at me thoughtfully.

 

“Not if you persuade him.”

 

“I don’t follow,” I frown. The blue-eyed boy bites his lip nervously.

 

“From what I’ve gathered, the captain has a soft spot for you. He doesn’t want anybody messing with you. Well, if he sees that locking you up could mean that you’d be harmed, there’s no doubt he’ll take you to shore with him.”

 

I blink, incredulous.

 

“What I really mean is that when the time comes for him to lock you up, you could start crying or protesting, saying that one of his men would enter and hurt you or something similar to that. You could lie. I’m pretty sure he’d believe you, an innocent lady, more than any of them bastard pirates.”

 

I think over Niall’s idea and can’t help but have doubts about it. Zayn doesn’t seem easily manipulated, and I have always been a terrible liar. But his idea does make sense. If I can somehow get off this ship, I have a greater chance of developing an idea to escape--for both me and Niall.

 

And after they stop at a harbour for supplies, who knows when we’ll ever see land again. It could be weeks or so before they need to stop for more.

 

The sound of the door from ahead opening with a loud creak causes Niall and I to go completely silent. Pursing his lips, Niall shuffles back into his hiding place, concealing him within the depths of the shadows as footsteps near us in the brig.

 

I stiffen and look towards the source of the sound and find Zayn’s tall, lumbering figure pause in front of the bars. Then the sound of keys jingling is heard, and the metal door opens with a groan, the metal scraping a bit against the floor.

 

“Morning, Princess,” The captain greets me dryly without an ounce of warmth.

 

I don’t reply. Instead, I rise to my feet and walk outside of the cage, rubbing at my arms because of the chilly feeling I get. The brig is always cold, and since I sleep down here every single night, I’ve grown accustomed to the lack of warmth--to a certain extent. As I begin moving again, I’m reminded of how cold it is and want nothing more than to feel the sun on my skin.

 

We ascend the steps, and I walk through the doorway into the hall. Zayn leads me down the hall, then down multiple other ones, before I ask softly, “Can I go on deck?”

 

“Why?” He stops in front of his quarters and opens his door, not looking at me.

 

“To get some fresh air.”

 

He scoffs. “I can’t care less about you needing fresh air.”

 

With that, he closes his door behind me roughly and locks it from the outside. I grit my teeth as I hear his heavy footsteps echo down the hall, and I’m left alone in his room. Along with spending countless of hours in the brig, I spend just as many trapped in his room. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt a fresh breeze; I can’t even open his window, since he nailed it shut after what happened when I ran on the deck.

 

I’m growing dangerously irritated from lack of open space, and I once again try to pry open the window, but the panes are nailed shut to where they won’t even budge.

 

Zayn is treating me like a prisoner. He barely looks at me, barely speaks to me, and I wonder why he won’t just send me overboard, even though the idea terrifies me because I don’t know how to swim. I don’t see any other reason for me to be alive, since Zayn has no obvious use of me. I am just here, and I can’t figure out _why_ I’m here in the first place, other than the fact Zayn has an interest in my necklace. Necklace which I am starting to miss deeply.

 

I take a nap on the bed before the door opens again, revealing the captain once more.

 

“Get up.” He commands briskly, and I jolt from the bed.

 

“What’s happening?”

 

“Just follow me.” He gruffs and swiftly turns on his heel. I blink and quickly follow behind him, scrambling over my own feet in confusion. I rub at my eyes, trying to awake fully from my nap, and I stifle a yawn as I realize he’s taking me on deck. We near the staircase leading upwards onto the top floor, and my breath hitches in anticipation and excitement.

 

He unlatches the door and throws it open, and an instant breeze kisses me along the face. I smile to myself as I rise into the open air. My hair is whipped from my face almost violently, but I don’t care because it feels great. The sun is high in the sky and there isn’t a cloud in the sky; it’s nothing but sunshine and gusts of wind, and all I can make out from this is freedom. I feel free standing here, no matter where I am or how much freedom I literally have.

 

I stare out into the water and see that light blue stretching on for miles. No matter how hard I look, I cannot see an ounce of green. It’s like we’re sailing on a planet made entirely of water--that and nothing more.

 

The deck is alive with the crew, mobbing its surface and manipulating the sails and instruments of the ship. There is shouting everywhere, and it’s difficult for me to focus on one thing entirely because of the onslaught of noise.

 

I sigh in satisfaction, only for the noise to stop. Everyone on deck stop what they’re doing, turning to look at me. I feel like I’m intruding on something private. The captain though, is having none of it.

 

“Back to work!” he booms, his hand grabbing my arm. “This certainly isn’t the first time you’ve seen a woman, make sure it isn’t your last!” He orders, dragging me backwards and up another set of stairs to a higher deck. “There. You have your fresh air. Happy?”

 

“I―”

 

“Thank me later. Now I have stuff to do and I ask you don’t distract my men again. Just stay here,” he points  the deck, “and keep to yourself. Don’t touch anything,” he ends, turning on his heel before heading back to the main deck.

 

I roll my eyes and turn around, leaning on the wooden end of the ship to glance out at the sea. For a moment, I’m frozen upon realizing how grand it is. I marvel at the idea of something so large that you can’t see the entirety of it. It’s no wonder people used to believe the ocean never ended, and one jeopardized himself by sailing into its mysterious waters.

 

“Ay, lass, if you want to keep yer head, I suggest ye move.” A voice warns behind me, deadly calm yet slightly amused. I turn to find a pair of blue eyes that marvel the sea’s color. A pistol is aimed right at me, and I freeze. The man laughs and motions for me to step out of the way, not showing any sign of irritation or impatience.

 

I step out of his gaze and realize he’s aiming the pistol not at me but at a target. It’s a simple target with red painting across it. Just as I step aside, he shoots the pistol, and the smell of gunpowder is heavy in the air, and my ears are ringing from the loudness of the shot.

 

The man frowns to himself, displeased. “Hm. Thought that would be stronger.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I thought if I adjusted the mounting hole of the bridle, it would be stronger. Not the case.” He clucked his tongue, staring down at the pistol with thoughtful eyes. The pistol seems aged, like it’s seen some battles. I didn’t want to think what it has seen - it certainly can’t be good.

 

I’m unsure of how to respond to the man, but his attention isn’t on me. He turns his back on me and hovers over a desk full of what seems like gunpowder and broken bits and pieces of ammunition and pistols. He grumbles to himself as he starts working at the pistol, and I quietly step behind him, curious as to what he’s working on. Everyone else is working around us, but I’m able to zone out the shouting and focus on this strange man.

 

And he is strange.

 

I haven’t seen much of him, but I can tell something is different about him. He handles the pistol like it’s a breathing child; he stares at it like it’s something more than a mere weapon. He stares at it as an artist would stare at a canvas, trying to depict what they can create out of it. This man has a passion for guns, that I can already tell.

 

I don’t speak as I watch how quickly his hands move, grabbing utensils and pulling apart the pistol like a surgeon would dissect a person to see inside of them and find the problem. His lips move silently, not uttering sounds, but speaking soundless words to himself, as if talking himself through the process. That, or coming up with an alternative to what he said before.

 

For a moment, I divert my attention and find Zayn ascending the stairs that lead to the very back of the ship, where the steering wheel is. He is silent and walks stiffly, shoulders rolled back in perfect poise, eyes sweeping over anyone with sharp intent. He eyes the workings of his ship as a teacher would eye her classroom; he’s searching for anyone slacking or doing something wrong.

 

I quickly direct my attention back to the man hunched over the table, not liking the idea of making eye contact with the captain at the moment.

 

But when I look back at the man, he’s already cocking the pistol again with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Smirking to himself, he states, “Ay, this should do the trick.” He sends a quick wink my way and turns back to the target.

 

Moments before he shoots, however, his eyes darken, growing serious in mere moments as his fingers linger over the trigger. He pauses, then pulls, and as soon as the shot is heard, he’s smiling as if he won a grand prize.

 

“Twice as strong,” He exclaims, his dark blue eyes looking back at me, as if realizing I’m still there. “Lass, have you ever shot a pistol?”

 

I shake my head. “No.”

 

“Well there’s a starter for everything, I say! I’m Louis Tomlinson.”

 

I smile when he finally introduces himself, now able to place a name to his face.  “I’m Roselina Aldrich.”

 

“I know in the highlands, land-lovers don’t like women knowing how to raise an arm. But you’re here on our ship, maybe you could take a few practice rounds?”

 

I take a moment to eye the pistol in his hand, wondering what it would feel like, to hold such power in my grasp. It’s very unladylike to shoot a gun, but he’s right. I’m on a pirate ship, and I know I have conflicts in my future because of where I am. I see nothing wrong in learning how to defend myself.

 

“Okay,” I agree with a hesitant smile, and Louis smirks, handing me the weapon.

 

I frown when it’s in the palm of my hand, the object weighing less than I expected.

 

“Here,” he says, his gruff and dirty hands arranging the weapon in my hand so my index is sitting on the trigger. “Now try aiming that target over there,” he instructs, motioning the blotch of red paint.

Squinting, I extend my arm out, the pistol clenched tightly between my fingers. I stiffen as the pirate gets closer to me, wrapping both arms around my body to help me stabilize the shaking gun. I turn my face to stare at him.

 

“Ay don’t look at me! Keep your eyes on the target,” he demands.

 

Shaking my head, I listen to him and focus on the red mark once more and take a deep breath. I can do this. My finger starts pressing on the trigger, my concentration at its highest peak.

 

“You’re thinking too much. And you’re not positioned properly,” Louis interrupts once more. I don’t get a say as he crouches to the deck and randomly moves my feet so they’re perpendicular. “There,” he huffs, standing back up before taking a couple steps back. “Your shoulders. Turn them so they’re facing the red spot.”

 

I shift, but he stops me almost immediately.

 

“Don’t move your feet. Keep them right where I placed them.”

 

I look at him in disbelief but end up listening to him anyways, exhaling loudly.

 

“Are you even breathing properly? You’ve been huffing and puffing for the last minute,” he states, walking towards me. My eyes widen as his hands wrap around my waist, feeling me up. “That’s what I thought. You can’t possibly be breathing properly. Let me help you with that.” His tone is suggestive, a low purr against my ear, and I catch it when it’s too late.

 

“There will be no helping of such, Tomlinson,” the captain’s voice cuts dryly, suddenly beside us. “What do both of you think you’re doing?” he continues, his look hard. His gaze moves to the pistol in my hands, and he swiftly rips it out of my fingers, throwing it in Louis’s hands. “Roselina, I thought I made myself crystal clear when I said I didn’t want you touching anything or mingling with the crew!”

 

“He came to me!” I protest. “He almost shot me in the head!”

 

Zayn’s glare shifts from me to Louis.

 

“I did no such thing!” the pirate protests, clearly offended. “She’s the one who simply walked in front of the canon. I couldn’t practice with her in the way.”

 

I stiffen when the captain’s dark eyes turn back to me. Now they’re angry.

 

“That’s enough, you’ve had sufficient time outside.” He growls and reaches for me. I try to move away, but his arm grasps onto my arm and tugs me sharply into him. I don’t bother trying to break from his tight hold - it’s pointless, and it’ll only anger him more.

 

I hear Louis laughing as I’m dragged away. “It was nice meeting you, lass!”

 

I don’t reply.

 

I quietly huff to myself as I’m forcefully dragged across the ship once more. I stumble a few times from the shoves the captain sends my way, and I’m struggling to keep up with his striding, but he has much longer legs than I do, so it’s proving to be rather difficult.

 

“Will you let go of my arm?” I snap. “I can walk on my own.”

 

He releases my arm but doesn’t look at me. I sigh and follow behind him. With a frown, I glance all around us and wish I can stay on deck longer. It wasn’t my fault for walking in front of Louis - I didn’t know he was practicing on a target. Had I known, I would’ve stayed as far away from him as I could, especially if I knew he had other kinds of intentions for me…

 

My cheeks blaze as I recall his hands wrapping around my waist, so carelessly, as if I was nothing but a mere object. But looking around, I see that many of the crew members trail their eyes over me as I pass by, though none have the guts to go against the captain’s words and touch me. These men rarely see women, so now that I’m on board, it shouldn’t be a surprise that they look at me with nothing but hunger and lust in their eyes.

 

It disgusts me to think that men think women are merely there to pleasure them. Women are humans too, and we should be treated as such. I’ve always wondered how marriage would be, to belong to a man and have to do every single thing he asked. Everything you did would be for his pleasure or to his favor. I’ve questioned this all my life but never spoke it aloud, since it was highly improper. It was a written word that the man was head of the household and that the woman was beneath him. It was even scientifically proven.

 

But I disagree.

 

I feel even angrier when I no longer feel the sun on my face or smell the fresh air. Zayn pushes me into his cabin, and I hold back a bitter comment, knowing it will get me nowhere.

 

“You will remain here for the rest of the day.” He says. “And you’re punishment of sleeping in the brig is over, so you’ll be happy to know you won’t - ”

 

“ - no,” I cut him off sharply, feeling panicked from the thought of not seeing Niall. That was the highlight of my day. Plus I always brought him leftover food - without me, he’d starve down there.

 

The captain lingers in front of the door and raises an eyebrow at me. “What?”

 

I glance away from his suspicious gaze and fiddle with my fingers. “Uh, I like sleeping down there.”

 

“Why?”

 

I lock onto his gaze. “Because you’re not there.”

 

His face darkens instantly from my bold statement, and the next moment, I find myself pressed painfully against the wall with him towering over me.

 

“What did you just say?”

 

“C-Can I please continue sleeping in the brig?” I ask, unable to hide the tremble in my voice from fear of his close proximity. “Where else could I possibly sleep?”

 

“In here. With me, since I know you enjoy my presence so much.” His voice is a low growl. He’s angry, I realize, and it’s too late to fix that. But I can’t allow him to keep me from going to the brig - I have to take care of Niall. He’s depending on me.

 

“Let me go,” I murmur, pushing against his chest to no avail. He chuckles above me.

 

“Why should I? You’re my prisoner. I can do with you whatever I wish.”

 

My heart sinks from his deadly, suggestive words. I look up into his heavy gaze, horror-stricken. _Would he…?_

 

“You wouldn’t.”

 

“I wouldn’t what? You forget who I am and what kind of man I am, Miss Aldrich.” He murmurs huskily, letting his fingers softly trail down my arm, getting lower and lower. I stiffen under his hold, unable to look away from his dark gaze. “I’m a greedy man, and I take whatever I want, no matter what.”

 

His words seem more like a threat to me than a declaration, and for a moment, I wonder if he’ll take me, right here, in his cabin, and seize my innocence. I won’t be surprised, since he is a pirate, after all. Pirates don’t treat anyone nicely - especially women. Especially captive women.

 

My mouth seems to have gone completely dry, and the protests winding in my chest fail to be heard. I’m rendered speechless under his powerful hold, and all I can do is stare, dreadfully waiting for what next is to come.

 

But our moment is shattered when a loud, booming sound is heard through the walls of the ship, and the captain instantly steps away from me, his jaw clenching and eyebrows furrowing in deep thought. Recognition lights his face - he knows that sound, but to me, it sounds like thunder, and I don’t know what it is.

 

“What is that?” I ask shakily, hugging myself as I collapse on his bed, suddenly too weak to hold myself up any longer.

 

“The cannon.” He paused as another boom erupts in the air, and I flinch from the loud noise. Shouts are heard outside as well, joining the noise, and the captain swears under his breath, whirling towards the door and slamming it open.

 

“Stay here!” He snarls over his shoulder and closes the door, and I listen as his footsteps carry heavily down the hallway, joining the chaos up on deck.


	5. Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co written with @SmilinForYa

As the deafening sound of wood shattering and cannons blasting fill my ears, the thought of a clueless Niall in the brig terrorizes me.

 

My mind is racing as I try figuring out what I have to do. _Do I listen to Zayn or not?_ I wince as another boom fills the air. He won’t even notice I’m gone.

 

Making up my mind determinedly, I hurry to the door and pull it open. I hear men shouting from above but shake it from my mind and rush down the hallway. In the midst of my panic, I forget which way to go to get to the brig. I have to stop and lean against the wall to take a few deep breaths and get my mind to think properly.

 

Then I hear footsteps pounding from behind me.

 

I quickly duck around the corner and shrink into the shadows, pressing my back firmly against the wall and holding my breath. Several men run past me, narrowly missing my smaller form hidden behind the corner, and I continue hearing their footsteps thundering down the hallway until there’s nothing but eerie silence.

 

My heart pounds relentlessly against my chest, and I swallow thickly before hesitantly peering around the corner to make sure the hallway is safe.

 

It’s just me.

 

Licking my lips, I run down the hallway, trying to stay as quiet as I can despite how fast I’m moving. All I can think of is Niall, being stuck in the brig, and I know I have to get him out of there. I can’t just leave him, not when we’re under attack.

 

I finally come to the door opening to the brig and throw it open, suddenly not caring how it clangs loudly against the wall. I nearly trip down the steep steps through the darkness until I come upon the lone candle hanging along the wall, the only source of light.

 

“Niall?” I call.

 

“Roselina?” He gasps, stepping out from his hiding place in the shadows. His light blue eyes are wide and frenzied. “What’s happening?”

 

“We’re under attack.” I say, my hands trembling as I see, to my relief, that the barred door is slightly ajar. I push it open and step inside, letting Niall hug me tightly. For a moment, the fear I felt earlier dissipates from being with Niall again. But the fear abruptly returns when I hear a loud booming noise sound from above. It sounds like there are explosions, and I know the noise comes from the cannons being fired.

 

“Won’t you get in trouble for coming down here?” Niall asks, frowning down at me.

 

I smile feebly. “Probably. Let’s just hope I―”

 

“Let the wench go,” Zayn’s voice menaces dangerously, his rifle pointed at Niall’s head. “Or you won’t live to see another day.” My arms constrict around Niall’s body and the captain’s eyes turn to slits. “Roselina, what are you doing?” he snaps.

 

I watch as he rapidly puts the pieces together, glaring at Niall’s arms encircling me and my head pressed against his chest.

 

“You’re the reason she wants to sleep in the brig!” he explodes. “How did you get on my ship?” He demands, advancing and pressing the barrel to Niall’s temple.

 

My heart is pounding loudly in my chest. 

 

“Zayn, no-”

 

“Shut up, little wench!” He silences. I shriek as a loud boom echoes, shutting my eyes tightly. The sound of exploding wood fills my ear as yet another cannonball fires above us. Suddenly, a handful of men stampede down the stairs.

 

“There he is! The captain!”

 

I realise they’re from the attacking ship when they pull their swords out and jump on Zayn. As quick as a snake, Zayn pulls out his own sword while keeping his gun in the other hand. A bullet shoots in one of the men’s head, followed by the clashing of metal hitting metal¸ as the captain fights off the intruders. I feel sick all over, watching as lifeless bodies pile up and blood seeps onto the planks.

 

“Quick, Roselina! He’s distracted!” Niall urges in my ear, his hand grasping mine tightly as he skillfully pulls me past the fighting men and up the unsteady stairs leading to the upper decks.

 

“Roselina!” I hear Zayn’s angry growl before I’m running away from him, hand gripping Niall’s like a lifeboat.

 

“Niall, what are we going to do?” I whisper hurriedly as we hustle down a narrow corridor.

 

“Grab a lifeboat and get away. This distraction is perfect. I saw a small boat at the back of the ship. It’ll be perfect.” he responds, shooting me one quick glance before we’re storming up on deck.

 

When we climb on deck, the smell of gunpowder is heavy in the air, and I start coughing violently as I take a deep breath of it. The air is thick with dark smoke, and my eyes tear up as Niall tugs me behind him, moving swiftly in the vision of carnage all around us.

 

I find us running over bodies on the ground, and for a moment, I feel like I’m about to throw up when I see all of the blood that the bodies are laying in. They’re lying in their own pool of blood, and the strong is heavy in the air.

 

“Don’t look,” Niall whispers, gently tugging me along as my legs stumble. I feel as though my knees are giving in, and I hope I don’t faint because my head starts feeling dizzy. The world sways all around me, and it actually is, due to the waves rocking harshly against the ship.

 

Taking a rapid look around, I realise the other ship is retreating, members of the rival crew swinging back to their own ship as Zayn’s men chase them away ruthlessly. The crew starts throwing the inanimate bodies carelessly overboard, as if it was an everyday thing. Then it hits me. _If the fight is over, that means they aren’t distracted anymore....Oh no._

 

“Ay, not so fast.” A familiar voice sounds in the midst of the smoke, and I open my mouth to talk to Niall, but a cold hand clamps around my forearm and tugs me harshly out of Niall’s unsuspecting grip. I’m face to face with a pair of cold, blue eyes, and its Tomlinson, the man I met on deck earlier. He has a twisted smirk along his face, and there are drops of blood on his cheeks, and even more on his tunic. My heart plummets from the sight of him. He looks like a monster.

 

“Let her go!” Niall snarls.

 

I try to pull myself from the pirate’s grip, but he only snickers in my ear and presses me back against his firm body.

 

“You bastard!” I growl, fighting furiously in his vice-like grip, my cheeks flushing from the sound of his malicious laughter. I’m sick and tired of being handled like a doll by these pirates. I grit my teeth and fight against the vile man with all I have, but he only holds me against him and continues laughing in my ear like my attempts of freeing myself amuses him.

 

“Feisty one, aren’t ya?” He sneers, his breath dangerously fanning over my ear. “I can see why the captain’s interested, although I wonder―”

 

“―that is no way to talk to a lady. Unhand her _now_.” Niall snarls, and his eyes are glaring at the pirate behind me. For a moment, I’m stunned from the ferocious look in his eyes. He doesn’t look like the cherry blonde I’ve come to know.

 

“Looks like you have more than one admirer.” Tomlinson observes in a low purr from behind. I look down at his hand pressed against my abdomen and see that his fingers are caked with blood. I feel hot tears making their way down my cheeks, knowing that he’s killed men, and now I’m in his grip.

 

And I can’t get out.

 

“N-Niall,” I resort to begging, my voice wavering and throat thick with an upcoming sob of terror as Tomlinson’s grip on me tightens. Then he aims a pistol at Niall, and Niall stiffens when he’s targeted by the ruthless pirate behind me.

 

“No,” I gasp. “Please don’t shoot him. I’ll do anything - don’t hurt him!”

 

“Louis. Stop. You’ve had your fun now.” A grave voice speaks behind us, and Louis groans and releases me. I turn to look over my shoulder, and my heart sinks when I find the Captain standing there with a pistol held loosely in his hand. His tunic is now also coated in blood, and in his other hand, he holds a long knife that glistens with crimson liquid. My mouth dries from the mere sight.

 

And I’m close to fainting when his dark eyes lock on mine.

 

“Come back to me,” He says and raises the gun to aim it at Niall, “or I’ll put a bullet between his eyes.”

 

Even though I’m terrified of his rugged appearance, I have no choice but to rush by his side in fear of Niall getting shot. Zayn seizes my arm tightly and tears his gaze away from mine, staring coldly at Niall, who stands there with his hands clenched at his sides.

 

“What do we do with him?” Louis asks and eyes Niall in disinterest, seeming to be bored with the situation now that it’s under the captain’s control.

 

“He walks the plank.” Zayn says simply, his voice emotionless and empty. “Tomorrow morning, first thing.”

 

“No!” I outburst as Niall’s face pales from the news. “No, you can’t do that!” I object, watching Louis hold both Niall’s arms behind his back easily.

 

I look up at Zayn, expecting him to explode at me or strike me across the face. But instead, he picks me up and swings me effortlessly over his broad shoulders and carries me below deck.

 

“No!”

 

 His strides are long and hasty, and my abdomen digs painfully against his shoulder bone. I barely have time to protest or pound my fists against my back before he tosses me on his bed in his quarters and slams his door shut, settling his furious gaze on me.

 

“Please don’t make him walk the plank,” I say, my mouth running on its own accord. “He’s done nothing to―”

 

I’m silenced when the captain leans over me on the bed and crushes his lips against mine. For a moment, I’m stunned into silence as he envelopes me in a shattering kiss, his arms spreading my thighs and lumbering body forcing itself in between. I start screaming and pushing against his chest, but I may as well be pushing against a brick wall because he doesn’t move. In fact, I feel him smirk against my lips as my fists pound feebly against him.

 

“He’s walking the plank,” Zayn rasps when he finally pulls away and smothers me in his powerful gaze suddenly alit with something I had never seen before in a man’s eyes, “because he tried taking away what is mine.”

 

“I’m not yours.” I seethe and try to sound indignant, except my voice wavers with fear. “I’ll never be yours.”

 

He full on smirks and tilts his head. It’s that moment when I realize I’m in a dragon’s den and seeing the aftermath of what he did to those men in the brig. It’s obvious that he killed them, because if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now.

 

“You’re scared of me,” Zayn states, his eyes glinting in amusement. It’s only then I realise I’m shaking. I don’t respond. “You should be afraid. I’m not a man to be messed with, Roselina. As you witnessed today, I leave a trail of blood behind me.” he whispers, pressing himself even closer to me.

 

My heart lurches at his disgusting words.

 

“I wonder, little wench, what you’d be willing to do to save your ‘friend’s’ life,” he continues teasingly, his hand moving a strand of my hair behind my ear. I shudder, biting my lip as his face nears mine once more.

 

“Please.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

 

“Please what?” he purrs, his hand sliding lower down my chest. My breathing hitches.

 

“Stop touching me,” I say, throat tightening in fear.

 

“You’re a demanding little thing, aren’t ya?” he smiles, removing himself slowly. I flinch as he suddenly pulls out his sword, pointing it at me. “Undress.” he demands, tilting his head sideways.

 

“What? No―”

 

“You ask I stop touching you, so that’s what I’m doing. Now it’s your turn to listen. Undress.” he repeats, the tip of his sword a hair away from my skin.

 

I stare at him in fear, unable to move.

 

“There’s blood all over your clothes, Miss Aldrich, and it doesn’t suit your innocence. Unless you wish to become impure, I suggest you remove your bloody clothes.” he snaps, all playfulness gone.

My fingers grab the bloodied fabric in hesitation.  Only Zayn doesn’t wait. Rapidly, he spins me around and his sword slashes right through the lacing at the back of the corset, barely missing my skin.

 

I clutch the fabric over my skin, trying to hold the pieces over my body. Tears of embarrassment fill my eyes from feeling the hold of his intent gaze. I’m hoping he doesn’t push the pieces of clothing away, because if he does...I might just break.

 

“I can ravish you right now.” He whispers in a contradicting soothing voice. “I can strip any ounce of innocence you have left and leave you with nothing. And you can’t do a single thing about it, Miss Aldrich.”

 

“Don’t,” I choke out, my hands trembling as they clutch tighter onto the fabric over my body, hiding my private areas from his eyes. Shockingly, his eyes are on mine and aren’t looking down at my weakness.

 

He smirks again. “You shouldn’t be bashful, you know. Your body now belongs to me. Do you understand?” Teasingly, his finger lightly runs from my neck, closer to the area below and nearing my chest. I flinch away, and his smirk vanishes, his eyes narrowing down at me. “I asked you a question.”

 

I feel like screaming and kicking at him, but I know that if I do, it’ll only infuriate him. It’s frustrating and horrifying to know that no matter what I say or do, I can’t sway his mind. He’s dead set in what he tells me, and in a way, I have no choice but to be his or else…

 

“Roselina,” He growls softly, losing his patience from my lack of response.

 

I nod furtively. “Fine, yes.”

 

“Yes, what?”

 

My jaw clenches, and my cheeks heat up from the smug look in his eyes. “You know what.”

 

He leans closer, his stubble brushing against my cheek as his voice whispers against my ear, “Say it. Out loud.”

 

I close my eyes. It’s my only way of escaping the tantalizing stare he’s giving me.

 

His cold fingers grip onto my chin. “Look at me.”

 

I feebly shake my head. I can’t look at him and say what he wants me to say. Looking at him will only make it more real. I don’t want to be his, but even I know that in this situation, my choices are very slim.

 

“Look at me right now,” He snarls in a heated whisper, “or I’ll bend you over my knee.”

 

My eyes snap open from his unexpected threat. His hold on my chin doesn’t loosen; in fact, he’s gripping me so hard that I feel like it’s going to leave a bruise in its wake.

 

Looking into his steel-like gaze, I know he isn’t bluffing. I know of men who do degrading things to their women to put them into their place, it isn’t uncommon. A woman is her man’s property.

 

But I don’t want to be this man’s property, and I don’t want him to do with me as he pleases.

 

But do I have a choice?

 

The answer makes me slump under his suffocating hold. I know what it is, yet I’m hesitating, prolonging my moment. But it’s inevitable.

 

“Okay,” I say in resignation. “I’m yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-Written with @SmilinforYa


	6. Power

I wake for the fifth time that night from a horrific nightmare. I flinch in the cot, but Zayn’s arms instantly tighten in response around my waist, keeping me pressed firmly against him. His face is nuzzled into my neck from behind, and I feel his soft breathing behind me.

 

I gasp into the darkness of the room and feel like I can’t breathe. Tears stream down my face; no matter how hard I try, I can’t rid my mind of the image of Niall, bound by the hands, stepping onto the plank as Zayn’s men surround him, smirking and finding pleasure to his death. Niall takes small, hesitant steps, trying to prologue his life the best he can and hope for a miracle.

 

But there is no miracle.

 

Because in my nightmare, I watch with my own eyes as Niall stops at the very end of the plank. The sun shines at the light tips of his hair, and his legs tremble, even from a distance. I shoot forward and let out a cry, but Zayn cruelly grabs my forearm and keeps me from reaching Niall. I’m helpless.

 

Then he falls. There’s a splash, then silence as he’s swallowed by the ocean.

 

And that’s when I wake up. It’s like I have the same nightmare over and over, and nothing ever changes in them, no matter how many times I have them. Each time Zayn is able to hold back, and each time Niall dies.

 

Even now in my reality Zayn has a hold on me, and I know he won’t let me go. I have something he wants, both with my body and...something to do with my necklace. I’m not sure yet. I still have no idea what my necklace has for him; all I know is that he needs it.

 

I weep softly, trying to reign in my sobs to keep the monster behind me asleep. I pray to anyone out there who can help Niall. I don’t know what I can do. If I do nothing, he dies tomorrow morning, first thing― captain’s orders.

_Can I stop it?_

_How?_

 

Fighting against Zayn does nothing but anger him and bind me down more. I stop crying as I rack my brain frantically for some kind of solution. I can hear the waves rocking against the boat through the open window, and I know that soon, the sun will start rising. Then Zayn will wake up, and Niall will walk the plank.

 

I angrily wipe away my tears and curl my hands into fists over and over. I think of all the stories I’ve read and how the heroes escape the perils they’re in. Most of the time, they fight. They never give in, and their determination and longing to survive is what keeps them alive in the end.

 

But what can I do in my situation? Zayn is far stronger than I am― I can’t hope to fight him physically. Each time I have, I’ve been locked up, and he’s threatened people I care about. Is there another way to fight him?

 

That’s when it hits me.

 

_What if I give him what he wants?_

 

The idea is morally wrong and degrading and would certainly make any proper woman blush. But am I even a proper woman anymore? And do the morals and etiquettes even apply on this god-forsaken ship?

 

My eyes travel over the dimness of the room, noting the obscured shapes of the things around us. I glance down at the floor beneath us and freeze when I notice what looks like a pile of thin rope.

 

I shuffle forward the tiniest bit to reach down and grab it, but Zayn’s arm tightens once again, locking me in place. I need to move forward a bit if I want to reach the rope, and if I reach the rope…

 

The idea brewing in my mind is dangerous and can backfire drastically. But I don’t have many options, and if it saves Niall, then so be it.

 

I lick my lips and feel my heart rate start to quicken within my chest. I’m terrified, but I’m beginning to get used to the frightful feeling in the pit of my stomach. I take a deep breath before slowly turning around in the arms of the captain, seeing his face as I do. Despite his rugged appearance and who he is at heart, he looks peaceful and innocent asleep.

 

His stubble is growing thicker after a few days of not shaving. For a few withering moments, I let my gaze wash over his face and can’t help but feel myself relaxing from how tranquil he looks, though part of me stays prepared, knowing how he truly is when he’s awake. I softly run my fingers over his cheek, feeling the roughness under the pads of my fingers, and he shuffles a little, his eyebrows furrowing when my touch registers to him.

 

A second passes, and his dark eyes open and look at me. They’re still hazy with sleep, but they’re getting more alert by the second.

 

“Good morning, Captain.” I whisper, allowing my finger to brush along his bottom lip as I pull it away.

 

He looks genuinely confused for a moment before his lips crane into a small, amused smirk. “What do you think you’re doing?” he enquires, eyebrow cocking up.

 

“Why captain, I’m only admiring you,” I say, my finger sliding down the length of his neck before descending to his upper chest.

 

His hand grasps mine tightly and stops my movement, surprising me.

 

“Darling, it’s bad form to mess with a man’s body if you’re not willing to let him return the action,” he drawls, his hand suddenly grabbing my waist and tugging me forwards.

 

My heart hammers in my chest as his gaze pierces right through mine. My breath hitches as his rough hands slide the length of my torso, his fingers ghosting over my skin. I shut my eyes as he caresses my cheek with the tip of his finger.

 

Okay, I need to do this.

 

Grabbing my courage with both hands, my hands wrap behind his neck. Using his surprise to my advantage, I pull him down and twist my body around so I can straddle him.

 

“Wha―”

 

“Shhh,” I silence him, placing my finger over his lips. I’m shaking so badly inside I’m afraid I’m going to break and fail my plan. But weirdly, my calm exterior doesn’t reflect my nerve-wracked interior.

 

“Roselina,” he warns.

 

“Have I ever told you, Zayn, how much I love a man with power?” I continue, my features becoming slightly lustful.

 

“Don’t call me Zayn,” he states, but his voice holds no command whatsoever. It’s as if he’s melted under my touch. Still, there’s an intrigued look in his eyes.

 

“How about Captain Zayn hmm? The fearless, powerful captain of the seas?” I trail on, my hands skimming his built torso once more.  He very noticeable gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously.

 

“What are you doing?” he repeats, completely disoriented by my behaviour. I smile and bend down to whisper in his ear.

 

“I’m yours Captain, aren’t I?” I speak softly, my hands reaching beside us to grab the rope. As soon as my fingers latch around the material, I pull back up slowly, keeping it out of his view.

 

I almost shriek in shock as his warm hand grabs the back of my neck, his eyes thin slits. But then he’s urging me down for a kiss, dumbfounding me. I have to kiss him back. I have to, or he’ll know something is up.

 

Knowing I have no other choice, I force myself to respond to his kiss.

 

“Of course you’re mine, Miss Aldrich,” he states, breaking the kiss. I fake a giggle and place the rope on the cot behind me before grabbing his hands. My fingers start tracing his numerous scars.

 

“How did you get these?” I question, truly curious but still acting as if I’m aroused.

 

“Fights. I’ve fought plenty and won them all,” he explains in disinterest. I nod, skimming a large one with the pad of my thumb. Taking a deep breath, I hastily reach behind me and wrap a piece of rope around his wrist. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, frowning.

 

I dig my head for an explanation.

 

“It’s a tradition where I come from to wrap rope around the wrist of the man who’ll bed you. It shows the trust both of them have for each other,” I lie, tying the rope to the cot.

 

“That’s bloody insane,” Zayn starts, shifting to sit up. Thinking quickly, I push him back down with a passionate kiss, my hands tangling in his hair. Automatically, he relaxes, his free hand knotting in my own mane of dark hair. Keeping one hand in his head, the other one reaches for the other piece of rope.

 

The Captain shifts, kissing along my jaw and to the inside of my neck.

 

Hurriedly, I tie a knot around his other wrist before attaching it to the cot. I pull myself off of him as soon as I’m finished.

 

For a few moments, nobody says anything.

 

Zayn looks flabbergasted, like he’s unable to comprehend what’s happening. His face narrows when he sees me on the other side of the room, and he says, “Come back over― ” when he reaches forward, the rope digs into his hands, and realization dawns on his face. His eyes seethe in dark coals, and if looks could kill, I’d be dead right now. “Oh, you little wench!”

 

Just the sound of his voice makes all the triumph I felt moments ago from succeeding wash away. He fights against the ropes - can he break out of them? They seemed fairly thin.

 

“Niall won’t walk the plank this morning.” I state coolly, crossing my arms defensively over my chest as he continues pushing against the ropes.

 

He growls, “He will walk the plank, and you will untie me― right now!”

 

After seeing him pull against them again to no avail, some of the fear drains, leaving nothing but smugness. I have him right where I need him, I can’t back down now.

 

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do, captain.” I spit his title sarcastically. “I’m not the one tied to a bedpost, now, am I?”

 

In a strange way, the situation is laughable. The almighty captain of the raging seas has been deceived by his own captive. Ironic, isn’t it? A smirk trails along my lips as my success weighs heavily on my shoulders. For once, seeing him fight helplessly makes me feel like I’m finally getting somewhere.

 

“Roselina,” He snarls through gritted teeth. A vein bulges in his neck, and his chest is heaving with fury.

 

“I’ll release you, if you call off your order.”

 

“Never!”

 

I sigh and rake a hand through my hair, creeping closer to the bed. Zayn stills completely upon my closer proximity, his eyes guarded and face wary. I crawl onto the bed and straddle his body once more, secretly enjoying my sense of power for once.

 

“All you have to do is call off the order,” I shrug and trail my hand down his chest again, watching how his jaw clenches from my mere touch.

 

“I will do no such thing. A captain doesn’t just call off his orders - that’s mutiny.”

 

I start pressing lingering kisses to his collarbone and push away the fabric of his shirt, revealing more of his bare skin. I’m met with more scars, but other than that, his body is immaculately built, and I can’t even deny the part of me who finds him extremely attractive, despite his monstrous personality.

 

“You’re the captain.” I mutter against his chin. “You’re the one who makes the commands. Surely you can cancel them?”

 

“He almost took you,” Zayn grits out. His eyes are tightly closed, and his entire body is tense, like he’s restraining himself.

 

“But he didn’t.” I bring my face to meet his, lightly cupping his chin to make him look at me. Finally, he opens his eyes, and I murmur, “Because I’m yours, aren’t I? You wouldn’t let him have me.”

 

“Never,” His voice is lower than usual, less commanding. He’s losing his vigor. I take notice of this and continue my touches over his body. Soon, he’s shirtless, and my heart skips a beat when I see a patch of dark hair trailing under his pants. I know what’s underneath, but I’ve never seen it in person before.

 

“So keep him. Use him to your benefit. Have him work around the ship.” I say.

 

“I can’t have people who are useless on board my ship,”

 

He hisses under his breath when I rock my hips against his. Our midsections are pressed against one another; the only thing separating us is the fabric of our clothing. I feel how much he wants me, and it’s straining against his garments. He wants me very clearly; my plan is working, but I have yet to succeed.

 

“He’s not useless,” I bite hard on my lower lip as I continue moving my hips, slower, against his. A bead of sweat rolls down the captain’s cheek, and his lips are parted slightly, releasing his ragged breathing. He’s doing everything he can to not give in, but I have the upper hand. I know it’s only a matter of time, and more persuasion.

 

Strangely, though, I start to feel what I suppose is pleasure as I continue to move against him. My body’s evidently responding to the touches, despite who the man is. For a moment, I start moving faster to reach my own gain until I remember why I’m doing this. Then I still completely on top of Zayn, and when I stop moving, he stares at me quizzically.

 

I sit up and force myself to maintain eye contact with him. “You have that curly-haired fellow just help around the ship. He’s useful, isn’t he?”

 

I start to slowly undo the buttons of my tunic and watch Zayn’s eyes grow darker by the second. I pull away my shirt, revealing my thin undergarment - as intimate as I hope to get in this situation, and raise the bottom a bit to show my skin.

 

“Call off your order.” I repeat.

 

“No.”

 

I lean forward a little, stretching my arms over my head and revealing even more skin to his greedy eyes.

 

“Untie me, Roselina.” His voice is low and grave, no anger or desperation evident. I let out a short laugh before settling right back against his desire, which seems much more prominent than ever.

 

“You know my condition. All you have to do is agree.” I whisper. “And if you agree, you can have me.”

 

His eyes flash. “You’re mine whether you like it or not. I don’t need your permission for your touch!” I must’ve struck a soft spot, so before he starts moving, I quickly pull myself from the bed. He’s pushing against the ropes again, growling between his teeth and calling me names only pirates will know, but I have a feeling they aren’t good.

 

“Alright then,” I say curtly, keeping my tone dismissive as I grab my shirt and pull it back over my head. “I’ll take my leave.” I turn and head for the door, all the while hearing the bed groaning under the man’s thrashing. But as I grab the knob, it’s suddenly silent.

 

“Roselina.”

 

I wait.

 

He sighs. “You like to negotiate? Fine. Let’s negotiate. But first, look at me. I don’t like talking to you while your back is facing me.”

 

Silently, I turn back to face him, making sure my face is unreadable. Or at least, I hope. “Yes?”

 

“I won’t have him walk the plank. But you won’t be seen near him, do you understand me?” He declares firmly.

 

My heart drops at the thought of never seeing Niall, but I mentally reassure myself that I’ll find a way. I nod at Zayn’s proposal. “Okay.”

 

“And each time you disobey me, there will be a form of punishment sent your way, but he will pay for it as well.” As soon as he sees my stricken face, he smirks, knowing he’s got me. I can’t ever disobey him again, knowing that when I do, Niall will receive the end of it, too. This isn’t fair! I never planned on him trying to negotiate back!

 

“This only works if you let him live. I don’t want any harm to come to him.” I press on.

 

“Your little infatuation with the lad is going to end very quickly.” Zayn says in a deadly whisper. “Because if it doesn’t, I will see to it that he does walk the plank, and no amount of persuasion will change that. Am I making myself clear?”

 

My mouth has suddenly gone dry. Even though I’ve accomplished what I wanted to, I also found some disadvantages. But I can’t say no. I’ve laid down my cards and played my part - I have a new set, and I can’t turn them away, because then I’ll be back to square one. It’s either accept or have nothing.

 

I swallow deeply and nod.

 

“Good. Now untie me. We have a bright day ahead of us.” Zayn says dryly, glancing at the window. I look at it and notice the small rays of sunshine beaming through. And as if on cue, I hear the distant voices of pirates waking and getting to their daily jobs.

 

I reluctantly step behind him to untie his knots, and I stumble a bit with the ones I created, having to work to actually free his wrists. I feel like crying right now, mostly because once again, I have no choice in what’s happening. But I’m glad I had a taste of power and freedom - it was certainly nice for a change.

 

“And by the way,” Zayn suddenly grasps my forearm and tugs me onto his lap, his arm wrapped firmly around my waist. He presses a kiss to my neck and whispers in my ear, “You’re going to continue what you were doing tonight, when we’re alone. I won’t forget it, darling.” He smirks against my skin as he tugs lightly on my chin, forcing me to face him. When I do, he kisses me, and it takes all the strength I have not to cry.


	7. Outbursts

 I replay the captain’s words in my head over and over again as I walk in circles in his cabin.

 

“We have a bright day ahead of us,” I mock, imitating his grave voice before scoffing. “Yeah right. You’re the one having a bright day outside, while I’m stuck in this stinking cabin once more,” I grumble, glaring at the see through the window. “And not only that, but he wants me to continue what I did this morning, tonight? Nope. I’m not just some wench he can bed whenever he wants,” I trail on furiously.

 

Exhaling loudly, I stare at the sea once more before turning on my heel and sitting back on the cot. Action which I have been repeating for the last hour or so. My fingers dig in the small sheet over the bed.

 

“There’s nothing to do,” I mumble to myself. “Absolutely nothing,” I continue, standing once more.

 

My boredom was starting to reach its limit. My gaze travels around the small room once before falling on the bed once more. It isn’t made.

 

Out of habit from the time’s I’d made William’s and Alice’s beds, I bend down and remove the sheets altogether. Part of the fabric gets stuck under the mattress. Frowning, I pull and tug the material, but it refuses to remove itself. Shoulders slumping, I grab the small mattress and pull it off the wooden structure.

 

A cloud of dust fills the air as it falls heavily to the floor with a thump. Grimacing, I couch and wave my hand before my face, trying to get the dust away from me. Blinking a couple of times, I couch once more and pull the rest of the sheets off.

 

My heartbeat quickens as I notice a pile of paper sit right at the center where the cot used to be. Dropping the fabric, I approach the pile. Various maps are strewn here and there, along with numerous sketches as well as documents and letters in languages I can’t comprehend at first sight. I pick them up and place them on Zayn’s desk for further inspection.

 

Taking a seat at his desk, I start sorting them. I place the maps together at my left, the sketches at my right, and the documents and letters in front of me. I start looking at the sketches. As my fingers switch from one drawing to another, I realise that the same man is drawn over and over again, except he’s always at a different angle.

 

The sketches are messily drawn, and the papers are slightly wrinkled. One can tell that quite some time has passed and that this paper has been confided as well. I pause at one sketch, where the man’s eyes are gazing right at me, and I freeze. Goosebumps rise along my arms. _Those eyes….they look startlingly familiar, like I’ve seen them before― but where? This man is a complete stranger...I think?_

 

His face is sharp and angular, and he has a thick, dark beard covering his chin. But his gaze is sharp and intelligent, and with furrowed eyebrows, he has an inquisitive perception to him. I can’t stop looking, I feel like I’m staring right at him.

 

Finally breaking my gaze, I set down the thin pile of sketches and move on to the other papers lying about. There are more drawings, of many different things - plants, animals, sunsets, sceneries, and they’re all magnificent. When I stare at one with thick bundles of trees, I can smell the musky scent; when I’m looking at the drawing of a furry rodent, one I’ve never seen before, I can almost see how his eyes would normally move or the softness of his fur. The drawings are articulate and detailed, yet messy, with stray lines dotted along the more prominent ones.

 

I pause when I pull up a particular, landscaped sized paper, and squint my eyes. I have to turn it around a bit to finally understand - it’s a map. But a map for what? There’s writing in the top right hand corner, but it’s so messy that I can’t read it. All I can read is the first letter, R. Everything else is unreadable.

 

There are also various circles around places, as well as X marks and dots. I don’t understand what kind of map this is, but there’s a trail. And judging by all the markings, I can see that this paper has been used often, no doubt by the captain himself. Why is he hiding it?

 

But then my eyes notice something else.

 

I recognize the necklace instantly. It’s my necklace, drawn on a smaller, more wrinkled piece of paper. It’s just the necklace, and a strong pang of nostalgia waves heavily in my chest upon seeing it. The paper underneath shows the necklace on the frail neck of a woman, but I can’t see her face. The artist was clearly more interested in drawing the necklace slung around her neck.

 

I thumb through some more and am amazed at how many drawings there are of this necklace. All at different angles, but it’s the same one. This is perplexing. Why does my necklace have anything to do with a heartless pirate?

 

Why does he need it?

 

It’s just a necklace. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember. It’s always felt like it was a part of me, and whenever I touched it, I felt a wave of comfort, especially during harsh times throughout my life. Through my parent’s absence, it brought me consolation. So why does the captain want it? Clearly it has a huge role to him, but what exactly is that role?

 

I jump, my heart thudding painfully in my chest, when the door slams open behind me. Heavy footsteps ensue. It’s him, I can feel it. I freeze, unable to know how to act. I wonder if he’ll be furious that I found all these maps and drawings. Are they personal to him? I doubt he has anything personal - he’s a heartless monster. I’ve never seen him writing in a journal or reading any books.

 

There’s an angry shout on deck, making me jump. It’s the captain. Clearly, he’s yelling at the crew. The sound of his boots on the wooden surface is enough to frighten me. Hastily, I grab all the papers and shove them back where I found them, before lifting the mattress and dropping it over them. More dust escapes, but I ignore it, focused on getting the bedsheets back on the bed properly.

 

Zayn barges in as I finish. He’s fuming, his eyes almost murderous and his whole body tense.

 

I’m about to say something when I notice I forgot one of the maps on his desk. I rapidly shift my gaze elsewhere, praying he won’t notice. I decide to speak before he can do anything.

 

“What-”

 

“Don’t say a word, Roselina, or I might just kill you,” he snarls, approaching me. “Useless. That’s what you’ve become,” he continues, his body suddenly pressing mine against the wall. “Because my crew is too bloody stupid to save the man most important to our quest!” he booms, stepping away from me.

 

My eyes widen as I see him approaching his desk. My hands grabs his arm, and I tug him back to me reluctantly.

 

“Zayn-”

 

“No!” He shouts, his face turning red. “Don’t call me that, you wench! I don’t even need you anymore,” he continues heatedly.  “I can simply fuck you and make you walk the plank afterwards, and it wouldn’t matter!” he storms.

 

His words chill my bones. I can’t help the tears forming in my eyes. Of course I don’t like being held captive, but he’s talking about ridding me of my dignity then feeding me to the ravenous ocean!

 

“Captain, please-”

 

He cuts me off once more.

 

“That boy. Niall. I can rid myself of him. I don’t care about your deal anymore. It’s worth no more because my sailing master is dead!” he rages, tugging at his black hair in fury.

 

“S-s-sailing master?” I stammer.

Instead of replying, he storms back outside his cabin. I follow him.

 

“Bring the prisoner on deck,” he shouts to his men from the upper deck. I stay a few feet behind him, too afraid to be near that monster.

 

The crew starts moving out of fear, forming a messy jumble of bodies. Niall is brought up in front of Zayn seconds later and forced on his knees before him.

 

I shake my head rapidly and start crying, seeing the blonde boy with his wrists tied behind his back.

 

“Zayn, please,” I persist, my voice hoarse and throat thick with panic. My hands tremble at my sides, and it takes every ounce of strength I have to tear my eyes off of Niall and look at the captain.

 

“Get the plank ready!” Zayn shouts, ignoring my voice.

 

Tears stream down my face, blurring my vision. In my blind panic, I grab onto his arm and pray that he has any ounce of humanity left in him. What I see next terrifies me even more. He’s furious - livid, and to the naked eye, beyond any form of reasoning. Niall’s death is plain in his gaze and intentions. It’s up to me to save him and to keep me from losing everything I have.

 

“I’ll do anything,” I choke out, my voice trembling. “A-Anything you want, I swear...please, don’t hurt him. Don’t do this. You don’t have to. I―”

 

His lips curl into a malicious smirk. Before I know it, his hands are tangled in my hair, and I scream and writhe from the burning in my scalp as he drags me across the ship. He forces me on my knees, his hand still knotted in my hair, but he lessens his hold so I can look up. Though my bangs hang in my face, and my scalp throbs in excruciating pain, I can see Niall being led towards the plank. He has a blindfold over his eyes, and the men guide him, smirking and laughing, teasing him about his death. He takes small, baby steps, and I can see his knees shaking in raw fear.

 

“Watch as he walks,” The captain murmurs, watching my face closely in muted silence. His face is a mask again; it’s not sadistic or furious. It’s empty, blank. It frightens me more than anything.

 

A pirate finally shoves Niall onto the plank and rips off the blindfold, so he can watch as he plunges to his death. Niall’s entire body is trembling, and I can hear his ragged breathing. His cheeks are glistening, too - is he crying? I know that if I was up there, knowing I was going to die in a few minutes or so, I’d be choking on my own tears the entire way. But he’s trying to stifle them, and he keeps his head held high, despite the bickering and belittling of the laughing pirates.

 

“I heard a shark can swallow ye whole, mate!” Louis Tomlinson shouts into the salty air, smirking from ear to ear while cleaning a gun. A few other pirates chuckle in agreement, finding amusement. I’m appalled at how they can possibly find it entertaining, to kill someone. How? I can’t fathom it.

 

I glance up to where the mast hangs high over the ship, and the dark pirate flag flutters violently in the wind. It’s then I have an idea, and I don’t have time to think it through before the words blurt through my mouth.

 

“Niall can navigate! He can be the sailing master!”

 

At first, it’s like nobody hears me. Niall’s still walking across the plank, and the pirates are still laughing at his trembling and crying.

 

My voice is shriller, laced with desperation. “I’ve known him for years, you have to believe me! He knows maps like they’re the back of his hand! He’ll be able to navigate this crew, anywhere you need to go! Having him walk the plank will waste time and effort because afterwards, you’re going to have to find a new sailing master, right? You don’t have to - you have one right here!”

 

“The lass has a point, Captain,” Harry mumbles next to me, and his cheeks flush when the captain fixes him with a silencing, steely glare. Clearly he didn’t think before speaking his thoughts, which is something you should do around a pirate captain.

 

The captain and I lock eyes for a few moments; his are determined and unwavering, and mine are desperate yet just as determined. He’s determined to get somewhere, I’m not sure where exactly, but it’s laced in every movement he makes, every order he gives to his crew. He wants to go somewhere; those maps in his quarters prove that assumption. And I know I have the upper hand, and I’m so glad for my quick thinking. He needs someone to navigate the ship, and it will cost him time to find someone new. And time, sadly, isn’t something that lasts forever.

 

“Bring him here,” Zayn shouts suddenly, breaking our gaze, and I fight back a smile of relief when a pirate pulls Niall off the wooden plank and drags him in front of the captain.

 

“If you’re lying to me, I will put a bullet through his chest then send him over the plank.” The captain tells me with a hint of warning, raising an eyebrow and giving me one last chance to take back my word. My breath hitches, the image of Niall stumbling down the plank with blood seeping through his shirt. I’m not for certain Niall’s very good with maps, but I suppose the risk is worth it.

 

I nod firmly and, without blinking, say, “It’s nothing but the truth. If you don’t believe me, test him.” I can cringe from my words, knowing that if Niall doesn’t have any knowledge of navigation and the captain asks him to prove it, this can end in disaster. But it’s all I can do, to prove to him that my word is genuine.

 

Niall is brutally shoved forwards, nearly landing on his face in front of Zayn’s boots.

 

Zayn crouches down so he’s nearly at Niall’s level, his finger slipping underneath the blonde’s chin so he can look him in the eyes.

 

“So mate, today can either be your lucky day, or the day where you meet your doom,” he starts.

 

The pirates around us snicker, muttering to themselves.

 

Niall keeps his eyes fixed on the captain, but doesn’t say anything.

 

“Do you know your cardinal points?” he mocks. “If you don’t, you’re off to a bad start.”

 

“Of course I know them,” he snaps, his gaze fierce. I’m surprised. If Niall doesn’t know a thing about navigating, he certainly doesn’t show it. “The sun rises at the East, which is over there,” he explains, motioning behind Zayn, “and it sets at the West, which is right across” he continues.

 

“So which way is the ship heading now?” the captain continues.

 

“North-west.”

 

Zayn rubs his chin thoughtfully.

 

“What about the stars?” he enquires. “A good sailing master can navigate through the night using the stars to guide him. And I’m not only taking about the North star here,” he warns.

 

“I do know about stars,” Niall huffs. “But certain tools are needed while working with celestial bodies,” he continues, voice irritated. “Maps, a compass, and maybe a sextant could be nice.”

 

The captain looks down at Niall, before roughly lifting him up to his feet by his collar.

 

“Lose the attitude, boy. If you end up being useful after all, you can be bloody certain I won’t let you mouth off like this to me. I’ll slice your tongue out. I’ve done it before,” he threatens before dropping him.

 

Niall falls to his feet. His eyes meet mine briefly. Zayn obviously notices because next thing I know, I’m forced to turn away from him.

“Liam, bring the boy to the map room,” he orders to one of his men. “I’ll be back in a few,” he pursues, tugging me away. I dig my heels into the floor when I realise he’s taking me back to his quarters.

 

“No!” I protest, trying to pry his fingers off my skin. “I’m not going back in there! I’m tired of being locked up!” I state, attempting to free myself.

 

“Miss Aldrich how many times will I have to tell you that a pirate ship is no place for a lady like you,” he chuckles darkly, obviously undisturbed about my struggling.

 

“I’m tired of being treated like this! I’m not a defenceless creature you can lock away all the time!”

 

“Oh really? You’re not a defenceless creature?” he pulls me harshly forwards, his face now inches away from mine. “Then please, darling, tell me something: would you dare sleep below deck amongst my men?” he questions, his fingers gripping my chin tightly.

 

My eyes drop. No of course not.

 

“No.”

 

“Exactly,” he snaps, opening the door of his cabin and pushing me inside.

 

“But I still have the right to be there! All of this involves me and my necklace, after all!”

 

“You’re still not going.”

 

 I open my mouth once more as the captain turns to leave. “I know about the maps and sketches under your bed!” I blurt. He very visibly stiffens.

 

“What?” he says, his eyes slits as he turns to look at me.

 

 I stiffen, cursing my inability to keep my mouth shut up at times. I’ve kept it shut properly for my entire life, until I met this infuriating monster.

 

“What. Did. You. Say?” He repeats in a hissed whisper, grabbing my forearm tightly, so tightly, that I fear it’s going to bruise. I hold back a wince, but my lower lip trembles, showing how I truly feel.

 

“I noticed them - under the bed.” I whisper. “I saw them...the pictures, maps, everything. What are those for? And who was that man?” I silence myself as soon as I see the fury delving in his eyes. His tight hold hasn’t let up on my arm, and the temperature in the room seems to drop 10 degrees, the tension suddenly thickening between us. Clearly he didn’t want me finding anything - but why?

 

“You little wench. You went snooping, didn’t you?”

 

“I didn’t mean to. I was only making the bed, which is something I’m so accustomed to...I only noticed something underneath, and― ”

 

I’m cut off when he forces me on the bed, his body towering over mine and hands holding my above my head in a deadlock. I can only wriggle my hips and legs, to no avail. I’m trapped under his unrelenting hold and can only look into his eyes.

 

“You are a prisoner on this ship. You are not one of my crew or my mates. I can do whatever I want with you, and I have stressed this long enough. I can make you sleep outside when it rains, I can have you down in the brig again, I can keep you from getting any water or food. You’re mine to do with whatever I want. But let me make this clear: this room is not yours. Nothing aboard this ship belongs to you. This ship is mine, everything ranging from the sails to the buckets sitting on deck. Including you. If I catch you snooping again, we will have some trouble that I will have no trouble resolving. Answer me, wench. Tell me you understand.”

 

I shakily nod my head, and he sneers.

 

“English, ay. Verbal. Answer me.”

 

“I understand,” I relent, instantly regretting wandering across those maps. I only regret it because I’ve been caught; had I not spoken so rashly, it would’ve stayed my little secret, though I would’ve spent more time wondering about those maps and drawings. Even so, I’ve angered the captain, and I still probably won’t know who that man was.

 

His smirk widens, and his eyes soften into something other than anger. Fascination? Curiosity? It’s not innocent, however. His finger softly trails along my lower lip. “Your eyes are like an open book. I can see fear as plain as day. You may think you’re strong against my men, but you’re no match for me.”

 

I remain quiet. I hate it, but he’s right. He has the power in this situation. A fool wouldn’t acknowledge that. So I have to play my cards right.

 

“I apologize for coming across things that don’t belong to me,” I murmur, feigning obedience as I lower my gaze. The first act of submission. “It wasn’t my place.”

 

He hums in approval, and my stomach churns as his hand trails from my lips to the curve of my hip, resting and grabbing a firm hold. “It seems you’re starting to learn who’s in control here.”

 

“Of course.” I nod and close my eyes, leaning back my head and exposing the outline of my neck, another act of submission. The neck, being the most vital part of your body, in full vulnerability. I fight back a smirk as his caressing continues. He’s approving of my submission, but he doesn’t know I’m doing this for an entirely different reason.

 

_Is he really the one in control? I doubt that._


	8. Show Me

When night falls, I dread the captain’s return.  
  
I remember vividly this morning when I used my feminine assets against him, to persuade him to keep Niall’s life. His last words have not been forgotten, either. When he returns, he’ll expect me to finish what I started.   
  
Honestly, I was thinking rashly this morning. I would’ve done anything to preserve Niall’s life. But I didn’t think past succeeding in doing that; I didn’t think there would be anything to follow. But as the crew mates started quieting down, and the night grew colder, I’m filled with dread for what’s to come.  
  
Maybe when he returns, he’ll forget all about what happened.  
  
And maybe, he won’t. Maybe he’ll already be expecting me to be ready for him.   
  
I sit there on the bed, my thoughts running wild as I stare out the window across the dark expanse. Perhaps I can feign sickness, and he’ll spare me? I know that in time, something will have to happen. But if I can do something to prolong that time until I escape, I’ll do it.  
  
All too soon, his heavy footsteps sound out the hallway. I quickly lie in the bed, pulling my body under the thin blanket, and act asleep.   
  
The door swings open, and he strides inside. For a moment, there’s silence. Eerie silence. My heart’s racing wildly in my chest, and my hands tremble in front of me. Hopefully he won’t notice my rapid breathing from where he’s standing.   
  
I hear clothing being shuffled - he’s changing. Then, the weight on the bed shifts as he sits on it, and I feel him touch the back of my spine. Shivers rack my body from his touch, and I silently curse at them for betraying me.  
  
“Miss Aldrich?” He whispers, and I hate the tone of his voice. It’s patronizing, like he’s speaking to a young child.  
  
I gasp quietly as he grabs a hold of my shoulder and flips me around to face him. A small smirk dangles at his lips, and his dark eyes glint in amusement.  
  
My breath is knocked from my chest, horror settling in my features when I see that he’s shirtless. It’s dim in the room, but I can see the rigid forms of his bare chest.  
  
“You should’ve been expecting me,” He coos, upon seeing the fear written plainly in my eyes. “We had a deal.”  
  
My mouth has gone dry. “W-What deal?”  
  
“My vixen, don’t play innocent with me.” He draws me even closer and traces his index finger along my bottom lip, tilting his head. “You weren’t so innocent earlier. What has changed?”   
  
“Nothing - I just, uh…”  
  
“Deals aren’t made to be broken.” His voice hardens, and he suddenly cups my chin painfully tight, his eyes boring into mine. “Do you agree?”  
  
“Of course I agree.”  
  
“Then tonight, you will pay the end of your deal.”  
  
“I can’t,” I shake my head, sitting up slowly.  
  
He stiffens, my answer slowly occurring to him. “Why not?”  
  
“It’s that time of the month,” I mumble, looking downwards in embarrassment. I find myself playing with my fingers anxiously.  
  
He says nothing, and his gaze pierces my skin as the distant sound of the waves rocking gently against the side of the ship disrupts the silence.  
  
“Show me,” he declares finally.  
  
My heart skips a beat, and I blink repeatedly.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You heard me. Show me,” he repeats, slightly more aggressive.  
  
“But- but,” I stammer, taken aback. “It’s disgusting-”  
  
“Darlin’, must I remind you once again that I’m a pirate? I’ve bathed in blood before Miss Aldrich,” he states, his dark eyes gazing seemingly right through my soul. “A little blood won’t do much to discourage me.”  
  
I shudder, my stomach jumping unhealthily at his vile words. I feel sick as a brief image of him bathing in blood appears in my mind.  
  
“Show me,” he repeats yet again, his patience clearly thinning.  
  
“I-no-” my protest gets stuck in my throat as his hand pushes me back down to a laying position. His body immediately hovers over mine.  
  
“Show me, Roselina, or I’m slipping my hand down there, and I’m staining your porcelain skin with your own blood,” he threatens darkly. I feel nauseous, knowing he’s not kidding around. He’s sick. So sick.  
  
I squeal as his cold hands slide underneath my dress, rapidly squirming away from him. “I lied, okay!” I say, on the brim of tears due to the panic flooding my body. “I’m sorry! I lied!” My back is pressed against the wall.  
  
His hand shoots out and grabs my calf, before he yanks me back under him. My breath hitches as he starts pulling my dress off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.   
  
“You’re sorry you lied to me...” he talks slowly, as if tasting my answer. “I doubt that princess,” he continues, his finger trailing down the side of my face. I shut my eyes, cringing. “But you will be.”  
  
“No-”  
  
His finger presses itself to my lips.  
  
“You do recall this morning’s deal, don’t you? Of course you do,” he responds, not even waiting for my response. I turn my face away from his, but his fingers latch around my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “You mentioned something about letting me have you in exchange for sparing the boy,” he pauses dramatically. “But do you recall the part where I added that if you’d disobey me, I’d punish you and that the boy would also suffer from your stupid decisions?” he trails on mockingly. “Well, lying to me was a stupid decision. And now you and your friend are going to pay the price.”  
  
Panic swarms inside of me, a knot forming at the bridge of my throat. I’ve made a horrid mistake, and now Niall has to pay the price?  
  
“Don’t make him pay for what I’ve done. It was my mistake, I’m the one who deserves to be punished.”  
  
He pauses and pulls away, amusement evident in his gaze. “Punished?”  
  
It’s getting harder and harder to swallow now. Fear is such a powerful emotion, it can literally take over your entire body and make you do things you’d never do on a normal basis.  
  
I nod. “Yes. Punish me as you see fit, Captain.” The words sound awful to my ears, but what else can I say?   
  
“I don’t know what you’ve been taught your whole life,” He murmurs, his fingers tickling along my thigh, barely grazing my skin. I shiver involuntarily from his burning touch and close my eyes, hoping this will pass quickly. “But the things I want to do to you aren’t all painful. In fact, I’d say they’re more...pleasurable than anything else. Your punishment might end up being your shame for several unholy actions I’ll surely enact on you.”   
  
He kisses down along my neck, the stubble from his chin grazing against my collarbone. The temperature in the room suddenly seems like it’s increased vastly. My bangs stick to my forehead from sweat, and I’m trembling before him. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, trying to picture myself far from here, back on land, where everything made sense. But then his voice brings me sharply back.   
  
“Believe it or not, I don’t want to hurt you, Miss Aldrich.” His fingers continue travelling north, skimming up the hem of my dress, which has been bunched up around my waist from the position we’re in. He starts trying to ease my legs apart, but I unconsciously press them together. His voice instantly hardens. “I just want your submission. So long as you give me that, you have nothing to fear. But as long as you try to fight me, nothing will get easier, and you will live in fear.”  
  
His hand clenches around my thigh, and I wonder if he can hear the wild thumping of my heart. For a moment, I consider lashing out and making a rash attempt to leave the room, but I decide against that. If I do, Niall will pay the price, and when Zayn catches me, he’ll be furious. And then he may hurt me.   
  
Swallowing back the lump still embedded in my throat, I reluctantly release the tension in my legs. His fingers push them apart, and as soon as they can, they swarm within the lines of my clothing. My breath hitches in my throat as he cups me firmly.   
  
“Open your eyes and look at me.”  
  
My chest is heaving with my panting. My entire body is tense with horror. I hesitantly open my eyes to find his dark ones peering down at me. They’re grave yet strongly possessive.   
  
“You belong to me.” He whispers. His hand clenches tighter around me, and I hold back another gasp. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a strange sensation, to have a man’s hand down there. “Your body belongs to me. Do you understand?”  
  
“Y-Yes, Captain.”   
  
“Good girl.” And just like that, his hand withdraws, and he closes my legs. Right then and there, I could cry in utter relief. Is he going back on his word? Did he only do that to teach me some kind of lesson? If so, then miracles do exist.   
  
“You have my word that I won’t purposely lie to you again.” I utter, slightly stumbling over my words due to my still rapid breathing. It feels as though I’ve run for miles, only to get nowhere.   
  
“Your word doesn’t mean much, darling,” he remarks, cocking his head sideways. A dark smile forms upon his lips. “But actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” He inches closer to me. “So I want you, Roselina, to prove me that you’re under my complete submission.”  
  
I’m afraid to ask him what he means by that. I know it isn’t going to be pleasant.  
  
My heartbeat accelerates as his body leans over mine for mere seconds before he pulls away.  
  
“Do you recognize this?” he enquires, a rope dangling between his fingers. I nod slowly, identifying the rope with which I tied him to the bedpost this morning. “I’m going to tie one of your hands to the bedpost, only to make sure you don’t get another stupid idea like attempting to flee. When that’s done, you’re going to pleasure me Miss Aldrich, and show me how much you appreciate me. Show me how sorry you are for lying to me.”  
  
All too soon, my right wrist is latched tightly to the wooden structure, forcing me to sit at a strange angle. He seats himself next to me on the bed, crossing his ankles, and placing his hands on either side of his thighs, as if waiting for something.  
  
What’s he waiting for?  
  
He clicks his tongue, annoyance settling over his features. “I’m waiting.”  
  
“What do you want me to do?” I’m genuinely confused. Why is he staring at me like that?  
  
And that’s when it hits me.  
  
Growing up, girls used to always be fascinated with the things you do in a bedroom, the things between a man and woman. I used to overhear them mentioning oral sex - ways to pleasure a man without giving your virginity. I just never really took it into account, since I never thought I’d be thrust into that situation. Yet here I am now, with Zayn waiting for me to do...something, and I instantly regret not joining in on the conversations years ago to have learned more about how to please a man.  
  
Part of me is strangely relieved, for I get to keep what innocence I have left. I originally thought he planned to take my maidenhood, him being a pirate and all, but shockingly, that’s not on his agenda. Well, for tonight, that is.  
  
He sighs loudly, fed up, and starts undoing his pants. I quickly look away when he shoves them to his ankles. He’s bare before my very eyes; if I look over, just an inch, I’ll see all of him. My cheeks flush brightly, heated. I don’t want to look - I don’t know what to expect.   
  
“Roselina?” He asks, grasping onto my chin again. “Remember what I told you before. So long as you do as I say, you’ll have nothing to fear. You’ll be taken care of and may even find pleasure along the way.”  
  
Pleasure? I have no sense of what pleasure he means. I don’t understand how any of this can possibly lead to that. To me, pleasure is walking outside to have the sun fully beaming down on you. It’s when you hear a child burst into laughter, or when you stand on the beach with your toes digging into the soft sand with the soft lapping of waves in the distance. With the situation I’m in, pleasure seems nonexistent.   
  
I land my gaze on him, and my breath hitches in my throat. He’s huge and swollen, perfectly ready for the taking. His member is erect, with his hand aiming it upright, and his fingers slowly pump himself up and down, rolling over the very tip. I have never seen something like this, so closely. It’s almost fascinating, if not for the given situation.  
  
Because in a way, I’m intimidated by the sheer size. I doubt it can even fit in my mouth, nonetheless other places. Nonetheless, I reach out, and he moves his hand away, leaning his head back against the wall and granting me full access. He’s watching me intently through half lidded eyes, a masked expression on his face.   
  
I lick my lips. “I don’t...I’ve never done this before.”  
  
“Go on,” He whispers, his voice strangely faint and muted.   
  
I sigh and lightly touch the tip. I’m shocked to find it soft. When I trail my fingers downwards, his shaft is rigid - it’s like a rod covered in a thick layer of velvet. I notice him softly gasping when I touch his tip, so I repeat that motion. But I keep my touch light and soft, afraid to harm him in fear of angering him again.  
  
“No, like this,” He mumbles, shooing away my hand and wrapping his own firmly around the base. Then he strokes it up and down, while maintaining the firmness.   
  
He pulls away, and I replace his hand with my own. I can feel him throbbing under my touch. I slowly mimic his actions and notice reactions coming from him. As I draw upwards, his chest heaves, and his breathing starts picking up at a drastic pace. My touch is evidently having a physical effect on him, and the realization is enlightening, to say the least.  
  
For once, I have power over him.  
  
For once, he’s under my control.  
  
I stifle a smirk as I lower my head and lick the tip, swirling my tongue around it. He gasps louder, his hips thrusting upwards, unable to contain himself. I smirk to myself as I continue pumping my hand along his length, then I gently press kisses along the wides. It has no taste or smell. It’s only skin. Everything those girls from years ago obsessed over seem so trivial, honestly. From what I’m seeing. Although I suppose if I did this with a man I actually loved, this experience would be far different.  
  
I continue lapping at him. Before long, I quicken my pace and have to focus on keeping a firm hold of him. I lick continuously at his tip, noticing salty liquid coming from the small slit. I lick that up, wondering what exactly it is. All the while, he’s running his hands through my hair and murmuring my name, encouraging me to continue. He’s a frenzied mess under my touch, and I love it.   
  
After a couple more strokes, his whole body becomes taut, his grip in my hair tightening. My name tumbles out from his lips like a pained cry. Taken aback, I pull away, only to see his member leaking profusely. Zayn’s fingers grip the small mattress tightly, his face twisted into a mask I assumed illustrated his strong pleasure.   
  
I watch with fascination as the Captain seems to have lost all previous rigidness. His whole body appears relaxed, his head leaning backwards as soft breaths escape his lips. His gaze falls on me after a short time. He doesn’t speak, keeping his eyes fixed on me as the daze empowering him fades leisurely.   
  
“Do you want me to do the same thing to you?” he enquires finally. “Make you feel so good for a while?”  
  
“No,” I shake my head. “You couldn’t possibly...You’re a man and I’m-”  
  
“A woman. I know that, darling,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “But pirates have ways to make a woman’s body sing,” he trails on, his hooded gaze trained solely on me.  
  
I shake my head negatively. “I’m tired. I think i’d prefer sleeping,” I tell him. His eyebrow cocks upwards, but the he shrugs.  
  
“Suit yourself. No doubt you’ll ask me in a very near future,” he says, reaching over me to untie my wrist.   
  
I clench and unclench my fist once it’s released, letting the blood circulate throughout my fingers once more. As the blood returns, his arm wraps around my body possessively, pulling me to him, both of us now in a laying position on the bed. My heart rate accelerates as his body practically molds against mine.  
  
“Since you did well, I’ll let you sleep,” he begins in my ear before throwing the sheets over our bodies, encasing us in their warmth. “But let this give you a taste,” he mumbles, his hand sliding to the inside of my thighs before his fingers caress my feminine folds slowly. My breath hitches, my stomach coils as his thumb presses softly into the skin.  
  
“Please stop,” I whisper, fear lacing my words.   
“I will under one condition… Tell me love, how does it feel?” he questions, his voice as soft as velvet.  
  
My eyes shut as he presses his fingers just a little harder. I stop breathing momentarily.  
  
“Roselina…” he sing-songs, his slow circles not stopping.  
  
“Good,” I mumble finally in shame. “It feels good. Now stop.”  
  
He immediately proceeds to remove his wandering hand, placing it on my leg instead.  
  
“I’m only going to make you cum under my touch if you want it,” He whispers, fully resolved. “But by then, of course, you’ll beg me for it.” He kisses me on the forehead and has a small smirk, as if he knows for sure it’s going to happen.  
  
I try to gently pull away, but his arm circles around my mid waist and presses me back flush against him. He buries his face in the back of my neck and exhales slowly, fully content.   
  
I’m still trying to calm my heart down and think clearly. It all seems peaceful around us as we lay there in the dark, but I can’t help but think about what he’s saying. Why would I ever beg him to touch me if I absolutely hate his touch? And part of me is afraid that he’s right. One day, will I fully succumb to him and become someone I fear to be? Or will my perseverance stay strong until the end?


	9. Fear

I’m woken up the next morning by the sound of a gun cocking and the wind howling against the window. The walls of the ship seem to be trembling under its wrath, and I search frantically in the darkness, feeling another presence in the room.

 

“Time to wake up, lass.”

 

I vaguely recognize the voice; it’s chirpy yet tinged with mischief, but I can’t put my finger on who it belongs to. But it comes directly from my right, and it’s much closer than I’d like.

 

“What’s happening?” I breathe, my hands clutching onto the blanket tightly, as if bracing myself. For what, I don’t know. Death is something I’ve become well acquainted with, as much as I hate to admit it, so I don’t know why I’m even afraid anymore, but I am.

 

A breathy chuckle is the response I get. After a few moments, my vision adjusts to the darkness, and I see the shape of the person standing next to the bed, aiming the pistol directly at my face. I can look up and try and see the person’s face, but I hesitate, unable to look away from the weapon of destruction.

 

He pulls the pistol away, and I exhale, my lungs burning; I hadn’t realized I had been holding my breath until I hear his footsteps walk around the bed, heading towards the window. For whatever reason, they open the window, and wind gusts into the room, hitting us both square in the face, but sunlight puts out the darkness until he closes it again, chuckling to himself.

 

It’s silent again, the fear embedding itself back in my stomach, until a candle is lit, and I see the face of Louis Tomlinson smirking back at me.

 

I relax on the bed, though I’m still wary. I remember our last encounter and know it would be foolish if I let my guard down around him.

 

“We’ve stopped at a port, for supplies,” he says. “And the captain gave me the most interesting job of watching you.”

 

I don’t quite know how to respond, but I see his face darkening in displeasure.

 

“Instead of being able to acquaint myself with the lovely wenches of the town,” he snaps, “I have to watch you. And though you’ve got a pretty face, your body isn’t appealing to me, lass. I’m not a happy man right now.”

 

We’ve stopped at a port? I glance at the window, wishing to see the lights and the figure of the town in the distance, but it’s closed tightly. I remember hearing the men talking about a storm the day before, which is why they were anxious to reach a port as soon as possible; we must’ve gotten there at the right time because who knows what the waves looked like right now.

 

“Look, I’m sorry you have to babysit me,” I say with indignation. “But did you have to do that?”

 

“Do what?” he’s feigning innocence, but his upper lip twitches, nearly breaking into his trademark smirk.

 

“You know what! I woke up with a pistol held to my face! How can you possibly find that funny?”

 

He barks out a laugh, and it reminds me of a hyena; though I’ve never heard a hyena before, his laugh is how I imagine it to sound.

 

“Darling, a corpse could be funny if placed in the right position,” he chuckles, throwing his head backwards.

 

My stomach coils unhealthily at his disgusting words.

 

“You’re sickening,” I tell him, getting off the bed.

 

“Wait until you get to see me skewer men like a brochette!” he replies. “Now that, is a sight.”

 

I shake my head, feeling slightly nauseous. The simple fact that he could talk about killing people like it was some kind of game made me feel like throwing up.

 

“When are the others going to be back?” I enquire, anxious to have some slightly saner company.

 

“They should be back before nightfall if everything goes well,” he shrugs, carelessly sitting at Zayn’s desk. “And judging by the sun, that’s in about two hours. You slept a long time.” He sets his dirty boots on the table, placing his arms behind his head. His steely gaze is fixed on me.

 

“Is everyone out?” I question, ignoring his comment. “Are we the only ones on the ship?”

 

“If you’re asking for loverboy, then darling I’m, sorry but he’s out with the others,” he says, playing with the pistol in his hands. “I believe the town’s butcher was looking for some fresh meat and was willing to pay lots. I think I heard the captain mumbling about trading him for a sack of gold or two--”

 

“Zayn didn’t take him to be killed by the butcher if that’s what you’re insinuating!” I snap. “Niall is valuable to him, even if he doesn’t like it.”

 

Louis laughs.

 

“Whatever you say Rosebud. I’m just telling you what pirates do...”

 

“Don’t call me that,” I shake my head.

 

There’s a loud noise as something big hits the deck. Louis bounds to his feet in a matter of seconds.

 

“You stay right here,” he instructs, pulling another pistol from his belt.

 

“Why? What’s going on?”

 

“Would you stop with your incessant questions woman?! I’m going to go find out, and I want you to be right here where I left you when I get back!” He snarls, heading towards the door. He shoots me once last glance before he steps out of the captain’s cabin.

 

There's another thump. My heart rate accelerates. I look around, my gaze shifting nervously from one place to another.

 

There’s the sound of wood cracking near the cabin’s door. Biting my lip, I keep my eyes fixed on the door, bracing myself for anything. The planks creak underneath my feet as I cautiously approach the door.

 

Hands shaking, I reach over for the doorknob.

 

“Yargh!”

 

I shriek loudly as it opens, revealing a laughing Louis. I furrow my eyebrows angrily, placing my hands on my hips and nearly stomping my foot.

 

“You’re not funny!” I deny, huffing in frustration whilst I attempt to calm my racing heart.

 

“I’m hilarious!” he chuckles, clutching his stomach. Highly unamused, I wait until he’s stopped laughing before I question him.

 

“What was the thumping sound?” I enquire, crossing my arms over my chest.

 

“Birds,” he shrugs, stepping back inside the captain’s quarters. “They bump into portholes and the mast every now and then,” he elaborates simply, pulling his pistol out of his belt. I watch uneasily as he begins playing with it carelessly.

 

I stare at him, unsure of whether or not birds actually do that or not. Louis is the kind of person who you can’t always take seriously; it’s difficult to understand if he’s joking or not. He’s surely a mystery.

 

“You’re so strange,” I say softly, not to be insulting, but merely stating an observation. Judging by the crooked grin on his face, he probably knows I’m right.

 

“And you, lass, are a squealer.”

 

“A squealer?”

 

“Ay,” he starts taking purposeful steps towards me, sheathing his gun back into his belt, eyes trained solely on me. Dark and conniving. “If you were in a life and death situation,” I begin backing up to maintain distance, until my back hits the wall, and I literally have nowhere else to go. And he keeps advancing, his smirk widening in amusement. “You wouldn’t go down with honor. You’d go down sniveling and crying, begging for your life. You’d be willing to do anything to prolong it. I can see it in your eyes; it’s as clear as day, lass. I’ve had enough experience it to see it with just a glance.”

 

He towers over me, and there’s something off in his eyes. I do believe Louis Tomlinson is insane; I have no question about that now.

 

I snort and frown up at him, deciding to put on a brave facade. “How can you possibly talk about honor? You have none.”

 

This, he laughs at. Loudly and without an ounce of hesitation. As if I didn’t just poke at his ego. “If there’s anything I like about you, it’s your fire. Now I can see why the captain--”

 

There’s an abrupt knocking―no, banging at the door, jarring us from our conversation. I’m relieved for the interruption because he heads for the door, giving me room to breathe. The banging doesn’t soften, and soon, it’s followed by a woman’s voice.

 

“Tomlinson? If you’re in there, I’ll swing ye across the head! Open the door right now!” Her voice is shrill and livid, but he doesn’t seem like it bothers him. He opens the door like it’s anyone, and a woman shoves her way into the room. Wearing a ragged dress that shows enough cleavage to entice any man, married or not, she has a lovely face, though it’s grimy with sweat and dirt. Her thick, dark hair is pulled from her face and pulled back into a messy bun, with long strands hanging in its chaotic wake. She’s not frail or tiny; she’s a little on the chubby side, and she glares up at Louis with her hands on her hips.

 

“Stella!” Louis cheers, his entire face brightening up a little too enthusiastically. “Ay, it’s great to--”

 

“Where the hell have ye been, hm?” she cuts him off sharply, seeing right through his enthusiasm.

 

“I’ve been here and there,” he replies.

 

“All the other men are out and about the town. How come you’re here with,” she glances my way, looks me up and down with obvious distaste, then gives him a skeptical stare, “her?”

 

“Captain’s orders,” he replies with a shrug, stepping in front of her, as if to block me from her view. I huff to myself and sit back on the bed, though I’m very grateful to have his attention off of me. Evidently the two have some kind of history; perhaps Louis is well acquainted with the women of this town, which explains the frustration he displayed when he woke me up brutally. Though he’s insane, there seems to be some kind of reason behind everything Louis does.

 

“Captain this, captain that,” Stella sighs loudly, then lowers her voice and murmurs something I can’t quite catch. Judging by how silent he’s gotten, I know she’s trying to rile him up, get him to go against captain’s orders. I lean back against the pillows and silently pray he’ll fall for the temptation. Maybe I’ll be left alone, or maybe he won’t fall for it. If anything, I hope he does with my every being. Just being in the same room as him results into constant nervousness. I can’t ever let my guard down, not even for a second.

 

When I look back at them, they’re locked in a heated kiss, with Louis pressing the woman back against the wall. My cheeks flush, and I look away, petrified. Are they really doing that here, in front of me? I shouldn’t be afraid. He is, after all, a pirate. Since when did he think twice about a thing called modesty?

 

The sound of the door hitting the wall makes me look back. Stella’s holding his wrist and is tugging him straight through the door. The last thing I hear is his laugh echoing down the hallway, then I’m left alone. With the door cracked open. For a moment, I’m shocked; this is too surreal, too ridiculous to be true. Did this really just happen?

 

My first thought is to go find Niall.

 

Straightening the folds on my dress, I huff decidedly and walk to the door where Louis and Stella had just disappeared. I grab the doorknob assuredly, twisting it. I pull the door open, and I’m shocked to fall face to face with Niall.

 

His hand presses on my mouth to silence my scream of surprise.

 

“Shhh,” he whispers, looking around rapidly before tugging me back inside Zayn’s quarters. “Jesus, I thought he’d never leave,” he mutters under his breath. “You have no idea how glad I was to tell that bimbo exactly where Louis was,” he trails on. I stare at him wide-eyed, my breathing still unsteady from the fright I just had once again. “You okay?” he adds, looking at me up and down with worried eyes.

 

“You scared me,” I breathe, pressing my palm against my heart. “That’s three times in the spite of an hour I’ve been terrorized. I don’t think I can take another scare,” I admit, exhaling slowly.

 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. He blinks once, then twice. “Wait, did you say three times? That pirate terrorized you?” he frowns, his whole body tensing.

 

“I believe he’s a bit psychotic,” I say slowly. “He plays with pistols, laughs about corpses, and I’m positive he has taken an unhealthy liking to scaring me.”

 

Another round of laughter comes from beyond the door, in the hallway. I faintly hear Stella saying Louis name. Then it grows silent again.

 

“We need to go now,” Niall whispers, eyes wide. He grabs my hand. “We don’t have much time. Once they--”

 

“Go? What are you talking about?”

 

“There aren’t many men on deck, either. Most of ‘em went into town. As for the others, I know their positions; there’s a perfect way out, if you go through the back. There’s a small section where they’re completely blind.” he says excitedly, hope brimming his eyes. When he notices my silence, he frowns a little in concern. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

 

“I don’t know…” I trail off, then sigh. “It seems risky.”

 

“Risky? Of course it sounds risky. We’ve been surrounded by risks the moment we got on board. But now’s our chance! We can’t just let it slip, right? When else are we going to stop at a port?” He shakes my hand a little, as if trying to catch my attention.

 

I can’t respond. I’m trying to think of what he means, I really am. But to me, is it worth the risk? I know what’ll happen if we get caught, and it won’t be pretty. Zayn’ll be seething. And then he’ll take it out on Niall to punish me.

 

“Hey,” Niall whispers, watching me closely with a softened gaze. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” I say automatically, but then he gives me a doubtful look, one that puts a thick lump in my throat and makes tears brim my eyes. “Okay, I’m far from fine. I’m terrified, which is exactly why I think it’s too dangerous to do this right now.”

 

“I know you’re terrified. Nobody can blame you for it.” His hand tightens on mine, giving me a reassuring squeeze. It doesn’t make me feel better, though. “But don’t you think it’s worth to take the risk? These pirates―they’re corrupting you, breaking you down. You’re so strong, I just don’t think you know how capable you are because they’re making you believe that there’s no way out. Please, Roselina, think about this...we’ve got a chance. We need to take it.”

 

I bite down on my lower lip in deep consideration, a headache quickly approaching. He’s right, but he’s also wrong. And I hate that he’s wrong. I wish everything he said was right, but they’re not. We don’t know this is going to go as smoothly as he says. So far, everything we’ve done has only slapped us back in the face and gotten us into so much more trouble. I know now, for sure, that we can’t do it.

 

I won’t do it.

 

“It’s too risky,” I whisper, realizing it’s gotten eerily silent outside the door. “I don’t want us to get killed, Niall.”

 

He frowns deeply at this and evidently doesn’t know what to say. He wants to push the matter, but before he can say anything else, the door swings open with a loud thud, and Louis Tomlinson strides into the room with his pistol in hand.

 

“I hate to interrupt this precious moment,” he sing-songs. “But it’s time to go. Come on, loverboy. Time to get back where you belong.”

 

My eyes widen as Niall takes a defensive pose in front of me.

 

“Niall, please go―”

 

“Yes, please move,” Louis nods. “What would I tell the captain? That I accidently killed the sailing master because he was being stupid?” he frowns. “He’d confiscate all my pistols.”

 

“You scared her. Twice,” Niall states angrily.

 

“Yeah I did. Because her reaction is very amusing. Can’t a man have a little entertainment?”

 

“You had that bimbo a few minutes ago,” Niall retorts. I grab his arm and squeeze his bicep to warn him to watch his mouth.

 

Louis licks his lips, eyes twinkling.

 

“Yes, Stella is very… Entertaining indeed. Her chest is always begging for my full attention,” he trails on, smiling.

 

“You’re a vile, disgusting pirate,” Niall spits.

 

Louis pulls the hammer of his pistol.

 

“That I am. But there’s no need to act like a saint either, mate. I’ve seen you eyeing Rosebud.”

 

“It’s Roselina,” I stress, already annoyed by the nickname he’s given me.

 

“I’m not a blind fool. I’ve noticed how much you crave to have her full attention,” the pirate continues. “Always have to be touching her porcelain skin somehow,” he continues with a sorrowful sigh, motioning his hand, which was currently grazing my arm. Niall doesn’t say anything and Louis huffs. “Okay, loverboy, now I’m annoyed. Either you get back to the map room by yourself, or I shoot your foot, and you’ll have to hop your way over there. Not only that, but we’ll have to cut the foot off later this evening and replace it with a wooden leg to make sure you don’t get any infections. Believe me, I’ve seen this happen before, and it’s not pretty. I doubt there’s enough rum to numb the pain of an amputation,” he trails on.

 

“Go, Niall. Please,” I urge, horrified at the thought of witnessing him with a bloody foot followed by a wooden replacement. “I’ll be fine, okay? Just go,” I beg.

 

His eyes meet my pleading ones. His jaw unclenches, his defensive pose faltering. I’m taken off guard as he turns around and hugs me.

 

“We’ll find another way, okay?” he whispers in my ear before pulling away.

 

“Mate, that was the moment where you could grab her chest,” Louis points out. “For a second there, I thought I’d get a show.” Niall grits his teeth then rapidly strides out of the cabin, shooting me one last glance before disappearing in the small wooden corridor.

 

I glare at Louis. He scoffs and places his pistol back in his belt.

 

“Don’t you give me those eyes, Rosebud. I know you wouldn’t have minded an extra caress from Loverboy,” he chuckles. “Good thing he didn’t, though. Doubt the captain would’ve been too happy if he’d learned that a member of his crew, especially a new one, touched something that belonged to him.”

 

“I don’t belong to Zayn,” I snap. “And Niall would’ve never touched me in such a way without my consent and the proper privacy. Because oppositely to you, he has modesty.”

 

“Wait a couple weeks. I’m pretty sure that soon enough, Saint Niall won’t be so Saint. The life of a pirate can change anyone.”

 

“You don’t know that,” I disagree with a livid glare. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

 

He laughs. “I hate to break it to you, but I know a bit more than you do, lass. Years of experience ahead of yours. Now, I wonder how I’m going to break this to the captain. I know he won’t be too pleased once he hears about loverboy.”

 

“Stop calling him that!” I snap, sitting back on the bed and burying my face in my hands. I think he’s starting to drive me insane. Is it possible for insanity to be contagious?

 

“He’s going to be furious, ay,” Louis continued with a smug grin, watching my distress in sick amusement.

 

I say nothing further. Part of me knows now after tonight, that there’s no arguing with Louis. He just throws everything back in your face with his cocky smirk. And he takes pleasure when he knows he’s winning, which, by the way, he’s always sure of.

 

And as if on cue, the door swings open without warning and reveals the devil himself, carrying some kind of parcel at his side. Judging immediately by the look on his face I can tell he’s exhausted.

 

“Ay, Captain,” Louis greets him, glancing at me with his knowing smirk. My blood runs cold, and I bury my face in the pillow, letting off a deep sigh.

 

“You’re relieved of your duty for the rest of the evening,” the captain replies gruffly. “How was she?”

 

I freeze, and I swear my heart stops beating. I can only imagine how angry he’s going to be once he hears I was with Niall. The worst thing though is that I know he’s going to give Niall the worst of it all, and there’s probably no way I can talk him out of it this time.

 

“Boring, capt’n,” Louis replies, and I can picture him rolling his eyes. He pauses, and I think this is when it’s going to happen. But instead, he says, “But no problems, ay. Unfortunately.”

 

The captain walks closer to the bed, his heavy footsteps loud and dragging. “Okay, well, off with you, mate. Be back before the moon rises, we’ll be gone by then.”

 

“Aye ay!”

 

Louis’ footsteps echo down the hallway, and I hear the door quietly shut. I purse my lips, my mind whirling in confusion. Louis didn’t tell the captain--why? It doesn’t make sense. Why would he make a point to tell me then not do it?

 

The only thing I can think of is the simple fact that Louis is sadistic. He must’ve teased me to have me believe he’ll tell the captain, only aiming to work me up. I hope that’s the right conclusion because I can’t think of anything else.

 

“Hey,” Zayn murmurs, and I turn over on the bed, unable to meet his searching gaze. He sighs quietly. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Roselina.” The tone of his voice makes it clear he doesn’t have the patience for any nonsense right now. And when I look into his dark eyes, I can physically see the exhaustion. Normally he’d be stripping into his underclothes and getting ready for bed. What’s he doing?

 

In his hands still sits the parcel from earlier.

 

When he has my full attention, he licks his lips and sighs again. Then there’s an uncomfortable, heavy silence, and I realize he’s nervous. Of all things for the captain to be, I never thought nervous could be one of them. Why is he nervous?

 

“What’s wrong?” I ask finally, breaking through the silence.

 

“Nothing,” he replies curtly, his jaw clenching. Now he’s the one to avoid my gaze, and he pulls apart some of the wrapping on the parcel to reveal a dark, wooden box. “I just brought you something from town.”

 

He’s mumbling quietly, and I have to strain my ears to understand him. Sitting up on the bed, I watch as he pulls away more of the wrapping, fully revealing the wooden box. When he hands it to me, I shakily take it, wondering if there’s going to be a bloody ear or a pair of eyeballs waiting inside, stained in fresh blood. Surely he couldn’t have gotten me anything pleasant.

 

When I hesitate, he says, “Go on, open it. We haven’t got all night.”

 

Licking my lips, I begin pulling open the box. At first, all I notice is a deep blue color. It’s the first thing my eyes take in because it reminds me of the color in the ocean, during the sunset when the sun glistens overhead. The next thing I see is the pure gold; it’s a necklace, and it’s completely, utterly breathtaking. I’ve never seen anything like it. For a moment, I think I’m having some kind of strange dream, until I become fully aware of his heavy gaze.

 

“This is,” I whisper, “for me?”

 

He shifts on the bed and says, “Who else would it be for?”

 

“I don’t,” I pause, unable to take my eyes off of the necklace that’s probably worth more than my life. “I can’t accept this. It’s...too much.”

 

“You will accept it,” he says with a hint of irritation. “I got it for you. You should be thankful.”

 

My breath hitches in my throat. I cannot picture him walking along the market in search of any kind of jewelry. No, that’s not him. He’s a pirate. He didn’t buy this necklace―he stole it.

 

“I can’t accept this,” I repeat, a bit more firmly. “You didn’t buy it, did you? You stole it from someone. Do you have any idea how much this is worth?”

 

“Of course I do,” he hisses, eyes alit with unspeakable fury. “Because I bought it. You ungrateful wench―”

 

“I’m not ungrateful!” I cut him off. “I just know what you do! You steal from people, including lives! There’s no way you’d spend precious money on anyone; you’re way too selfish for that.” I know I’ve said far too much, especially from the look in his eyes, but this evening has been far too confusing, it’s all too much. I need space, I need freedom. I need to get away to where things make sense.

 

His hands clench into fists. He tears the box from my grasp and throws it against the wall. It lands heavily on the ground, and I flinch from the loud noise it makes, knowing that again, I crossed some kind of line. I should’ve just accepted his gift and acted grateful, but once again, I couldn’t hold my tongue.

 

“Are you purposely trying to make me angry?!” he snarls. “I thought I’d reward you for last night and temporarily replace the necklace I’ve taken from you. I thought you’d be grateful, but instead, you just have to assume the worst about me!”

 

“How could I do otherwise?!” I counter. “I’ve known you for a couple of days, and all you’ve done is claimed me as yours and threatened me repeatedly! You’ve even let your psychopath babysit me!” I retort. “You’re a pirate!”

 

Zayn lets out an annoyed yell before he storms out of his cabin, slamming the door behind him. I stand still, baffled by how he’d handled the situation.

 

Sighing deeply, I shake my head and proceed to follow him outside. A cold wind nips my skin as I reach the upper deck. I rub my arms in attempt to warm myself as my gaze trails over the ship, searching for the captain. It’s turns out harder than I thought as the ship was buzzing with activity, every man preparing the ship for its departure. The moon had already begun it’s ascension in the sky, their shadows lined with silver as they worked hastily.

 

I hear Zayn seconds later, barking orders by the helm.

 

Taking a deep breath, I clutch the sides of my dress and walk up the stairs leading to him.

 

“What are you doing here!” he snaps once I’m beside him, shooting me a murderous glance.

 

“You have no right to be angry after me.” I retort. His eyes become slits.

 

“Return to my cabin,” he responds dryly. “I’m not in the mood to deal with you right now. I’ve got more pressing matters to take care of,” he continues, his gaze locked on the men beneath him.

 

“I don’t want to return to your cabin―”

 

I stop breathing as he pulls his sword out and pushes me on the railing. I grab the wooden barrier fearfully, knowing I’d fall in the water if he pushed me. The captain’s breathing is unsteady as his gaze locks on mine, the cold metal of his sword grazing my neck.

 

“I decide what happens on this ship, darling,” he seethes lowly. “If I say you return to my cabin, you return to my cabin,” he snaps. “You’re a prisoner. My prisoner. I’ve sliced several of my crewmembers’ fingers for less arrogance. Don’t believe for a second that I won’t dare to mark your pretty skin with my sword.”

 

“You wouldn’t―”

 

“I would! You said it yourself, Roselina: I’m a pirate,” he sneers, the tip of his sword sliding down the middle of my body. I stop breathing, my lower lip trembling. I notice the whole ship is quiet, the men listening to our discussion. “Go back to my cabin,” Zayn ends, his gaze drifting to my mouth before he sheaths his sword. “And all of ya get back to work!” He adds angrily to his crew. “This ship better be ready to sail before the moon is up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome! :) Xxx


	10. Ice

It’s been a week since the necklace incident, and Zayn hasn’t allowed me to leave his cabin since then.

 

The only times I can leave are when I have to relieve myself, and it’s usually Louis who escorts me down to the brig to do so. So, not only do I have to be trapped at all times, but I also have to deal with his constant antics - and they get tiresome really quickly. By now, as I sit on the cot, nibbling on my fingernails, I’m more than positive that if Louis calls me Rosebud one more time, I might just slog that mischievous smirk right off his face. 

 

I’m fully aware that the captain is giving me the silent treatment for how I reacted to him giving me the necklace at the port. He hasn’t looked at me since, and not a single word has been uttered between us. It’s almost as if he’s ignoring my existence completely, and I recognize a cold shoulder when I see one. But not once do I recant my reaction, no matter how awful I feel, being cooped up, being denied fresh air, fresh sunlight, a wider area to stretch my legs - I know he stole that necklace, he’s a pirate - that’s what they do, and I’ll never accept a present if it belongs to someone else. 

 

Though I do feel my strength breaking down each day when he leaves the room, locking the door behind him, that resounding lock sounding shortly afterwards, and his heavy footsteps fade gently away, I refuse to show any sign of submission in his presence. When he returns, I keep an emotionless face and also refuse to look at him. I don’t try to speak to him, and I don’t beg for his attention. But as soon as he leaves, these thick walls I’ve built are slowly crumbling, brick by brick - and I absolutely hate it. 

 

I know I did the right thing, I think to myself as the ship rocks violently, then flattens. But when it rocks again, more sharply, and a few papers sitting on his desk flutter to the ground, I realize we’re changing course. Men shout through the wooden walls, and I imagine the pirates rushing to and fro, working to alter the sails and mass to the changed direction. Why are they changing course? Did something bad happen?

 

I get off the cot and try prying the window shutters open again, to no avail. He had someone nail them shut - another part of my punishment. My hands clench into fists, my teeth gritting, and a scream develops deep within my chest. I want to stomp my feet, to bang my fists against the porthole, to somehow break through. I just want to feel the sunlight, or smell the fresh air - is that too much to ask for? It’s a human necessity. 

 

How can he be so cruel?

 

“Trust me love, you haven’t seen cruel yet,” he seethes, walking in his cabin with angry, purposeful strides. It’s only then I realise that I’ve been cooped up for so long that I hadn’t even noticed I’d been voicing my thoughts out loud.

 

“Let me get some fresh air,” I demand. He doesn’t bother answering, his vile hands latching on my forearms. He pulls me forwards harshly, tugging me sharply out of his cabin.

 

“Today’s your lucky day, Roselina,” he sneers. “Not only do you get some fresh air, but you get front row seats to a one-time show,” he continues, pulling me up the stairs violently.

 

I squint, the sun’s intensity blinding me momentarily as the captain drags me across the deck. I feel so many eyes on me, and a blush creeps up my neck. Zayn’s hand on my forearm as well as his possessive stance rapidly gets the prying eyes to look elsewhere.

 

“Liam!” Zayn calls out loudly. “Get the plank out!”

 

There’s a series of rowdy cheers as a burly man shouts instructions to two other crewmen, who are both hastily lugging a big wooden board.

 

My heartbeat quickens, and my eyes reflexively search Zayn’s for some type of reassurance. Is he going to throw me overboard? Just like that? But Zayn’s steely gaze never meets mine, too focused on the men setting up the plank.

 

“Za--”

 

“Quiet!” he snarls angrily, the vein in his neck bulging. His eyes shift to the gathering of the crewmen in front of us. It’s only then I realise that one of them is shaking at Zayn’s feet, tremors racking his body as he mumbles nonsense to his Captain. “Get that lowly scumbag of a rat to his feet!” He barks.

 

Louis shifts to do it, but the captain stops him.

 

“No. I want Roselina to do it.”

 

My hands are clammy.

 

“What? No--”

 

He spins me around so quickly that I’m dizzy.

 

“You are on this ship, am I right?” He gets out, his eyes pouring into mine.

 

“Yes--”

 

“Who’s the captain?”

 

“You are, but--”

“Then why are you questioning my decisions?!”

 

I shut my eyes, his voice resonating through my ears. I can’t help shaking as I bend down to help the pirate stand. He’s dead weight in my arms, too heavy to get up.

 

“Horan, help the girl.”

 

My eyes grow big as I turn around to see Niall amongst the crew. Blending in with them. His face is set into an upset scowl as the pirates let him pass through.

 

“You’re a sick man, Captain,” he grits out as he bends to help me get the man up to his feet.

 

Zayn smiles.

 

“Tell me something I don’t know, Horan,” he retorts. 

 

Captain? Since when does Niall bow down to Zayn’s orders?! And when did he want to dress like a pirate? His other clothes suited him better.

 

I wince as I finally get the withering pirate to his feet, his weight practically crushing me.

 

“Get him on the plank, love,” Zayn instructs. “And Mr. Barnes, if you keep making this harder for yourself, you can be certain that you won’t have any hands to fight off these sharks.”

 

Almost immediately, the man holds himself up, regaining control over his mouth at the same time. He jumps out of me and Niall’s grasp, holding himself on Zayn’s jacket instead. 

 

“Captain, please--”

 

“Get your filthy paws off me!” Zayn snaps, pushing the man away from him before pulling out his gun and pulling the hammer backwards while pointing it in his direction. “A week! That’s how much time you made me waste with that cod brain of yours!” he continues heatedly. “You had to realise a week after we left the port that an important token of our quest was missing!”

 

Mr Barnes turns to the crewmen, desperate. He’s received by a series of swords and guns. I’m nauseated. The man was one of them. And they’re ready to send him to the sharks, for a little bloodlust?

 

“I’m sorry--”

 

“I don’t give a damn about anything that comes out of your mouth, you blithering rat! Tomlinson, gag him and bind his hands behind his back!”

 

I’m horrified as I see Louis do as asked with a sick smirk plastered on his face. He even dares to wink at me when he’s done.

 

The bulky pirate, Liam, the proceeds to heave Mr. Barnes at the very edge of the plank.

 

Zayn pulls out his sword out menacingly as Barnes tries to advance towards the deck and away from the hungry ocean.

 

“Roselina, get up there with him,” he instructs, keeping his eyes on the guilty pirate. The man screams in his gag, fighting uselessly against his bindings. I stare blankly in front of me, too lost and too scared to move. “Roselina, do not make me repeat myself,” he warns dangerously.

 

“But--”

 

“Just do it, Roselina!” Niall gets out.

 

Shaking like a dry leaf, I lift the hem of my dress and step on the plank.

 

“Get closer to him,” the Captain demands.

 

My feet are terribly heavy as I carefully step forwards. I want to throw up the meager food in my stomach as I look down at the ravenous ocean.

 

“Now Roselina, you’re going to push Barnes in the water.”

 

My heart stops. I turn my head to look at Zayn, but there’s no trace of sympathy in his golden orbs. Just raw anger.

 

“If you don’t push him in the water,” the pirate trails on, “I’m making you watch as I cut him into pieces and throw him in like vulgar chum,” he ends calmly.

 

My heartbeat accelerates drastically as I look down at Mr. Barnes pleading face. “Please-please don’t--Captain, I’ve been a part of the crew for years!” 

 

“Roselina,” Zayn growls behind me, and from the venomous tone in his voice, I know he’s moments away from cutting Mr. Barnes into pieces. And judging by the curling of my stomach, there’s no way I can stomach seeing that. From this situation, we’re both trapped - but from experience, and observation, he’s going to die anyway. If he’s going to die, won’t it be right, to choose the less painful way? Drowning seems like an awfully painful death, long and excruciating, but being cut into pieces and then being tossed overboard? Certainly that has to be more painful.

 

“I’m so sorry,” I croak, my mouth having gone completely dry. The ship rocks suddenly from a wave, and I nearly tip over, if not grabbing onto the railing. The waves seem to bang against the ship, as if shouting for the pirate’s soul to join its endless thirst. 

 

All the pirates behind us are laughing and whooping, like this is some hilarious circus act, and Mr. Barnes and I are part of the tight rope act, balancing ourselves on the thin rope. Above all the cheering, I hear Louis Tomlinson, and I can picture him smirking behind us, sick amusement glimmering in his dark blue eyes. 

 

I take a shaking step towards Mr. Barnes, who has seem to gone hysterical, pleading for his life. But his voice is tuned out amongst the pirates snickering behind us - and all the while, Zayn has gone eerily silent, even though I feel his gaze burning into my back, watching us with cruel, empty eyes.

 

I swallow the lump in my throat, ignoring the nausea bubbling in the back of my throat, and reach out to grasp onto the man’s hand. My other hand grips onto the wooden railing, my knuckle pure white from my vice-like grip. We’re both on the edge here, but all it’ll take is a push and then…

 

Just one push.

 

I try to get my breathing under control, try to ignore the noises erupting all around me, but I can’t get the look of desperation from him out of my mind, and I doubt I’ll ever be able to forget it once this is over. His elbow is ice cold whenever I grab a weak hold of it, but I tighten my grip, my fingers curling around his rough skin, and I freeze, my body going paralyzed. 

 

“Please,” he utters. 

 

Our eyes connect, the clouds overhead seeming to freeze in time as well. The ship rocks violently again, and my stomach churns along with it, the color completely draining from my face. My knees seem to have turned into mush, and black dots are lining my vision. My lips themselves feel dry and numb. 

 

“On with it!” I vaguely hear Tomlinson’s gleeful shout, followed by a round of laughter, and then all the noises fade completely. The black dots intensify, and I release the wooden railing, teetering blindly towards Mr. Barnes, who now has a look of confusion. 

 

He mouths something, but I don’t hear what he says. The world is turning, more so than usual, and for a moment, it looks like we’ve switched tables - he’s shouting hysterically and reaching for me, and the blackness is growing, covering his silhouette completely until there’s darkness everywhere - and I’m gone. 

 

“Roselina!”

 

I'm unconscious merely seconds before I'm imprisoned by the ocean’s icy claws. Ice fills my lungs, my whole body numb as I feel it sinking heavily. I'm tugged to one side and then another, my mind losing itself once more just as a hand grabs my arm under the water.

 

Brusquely, air is pushed inside my lungs, followed by a series of rapid pulsations near my chest. 

 

“Get that boy off her!”

 

The ice in my lungs melts and is violently expelled as I cough out the salty sea water.

 

“Deep breaths, Miss Aldrich,” the voice urges as I fail to inhale and exhale at a steady rhythm. 

 

Shaking, I look up to see a drenched Zayn staring down at me with concern. I find myself mesmerized by a droplet of water rolling down from his forehead to his jawline. My gaze  moves a few inches over to notice a panting Niall, held back by Louis.

 

“Roselina,” the captain states. My mind doesn't respond right away, knowing very well there’s a part of what just happened missing. “Roselina, look at me,” Zayn repeats, grabbing my chin. My eyes meet his ochre ones. “You're going to head back to my cabin with Harry to change while I deal with Barnes and Horan. You will not protest whatsoever,” he instructs, his tone similar to the one a parent would have when scolding a child.

 

“I--”

 

His finger presses on my quivering lower lip.

 

“No protesting,” he insists firmly, helping me up to my feet. The soaked dress is heavy on my waist. Excessively heavy. I reflexively wrap my arms around myself as I feel multiple unholy gazes on my dripping form.

 

Harry proceeds to take my hand and lead me through the crowd of pirates to the captain's quarters. 

 

My stomach coils as I'm to be returned to my prison. Harry lugs me behind him, his fingers warm against my icy skin, and my teeth start chattering against the gusts of wind. I stagger a little when my eyes meet Louis’, who is grinning ear to ear at my state of being. 

 

Harry’s arm tightens around me, and just as he turns to say something, the captain shouts behind us, “Harold!” Harry, too, staggers to a stop, turning to look at the captain over his shoulder. I tear my eyes from Louis and follow the cabin boy’s now fearful gaze, seeing Zayn’s eyes trained on Harry’s hand on mine, his lips turned into an angry scowl. As if my hand was on fire, Harry releases me, then mutters for me to stay close.

 

As we head back into the ship, I hear Louis reeling with laughter. Now that the wind is gone, and we’re inside, my teeth stop chattering, and I can think properly for the moment. Harry opens the door to the captain’s room, and I step inside, furrowing my eyebrows and trying to remember what happened. I remember standing on the plank and looking into the desperate eyes of Mr. Barnes - and then I remember being in the grace of the merciless sea. But after that, everything’s blank.

 

“What did Niall do?” I ask Harry.

 

“He touched what wasn't his to touch,” the curly-haired pirate responds, crossing his arms. My eyes linger on the scar decorating his bicep.

 

“What? When?” I blink as he pulls his sleeve over it, noticing my staring.

 

“You. When we pulled you out of the water, Horan joined his lips with yours. To say it angered the captain is an understatement.”

 

“Niall didn't kiss me!” I shake my head, ready to head back on deck to defend him. Harry stops me.

 

“You can call it whatever you want, but the captain was very explicit when he warned us not to touch you,” he says, holding his hands out in front of me. I grimace, a shudder racking my body.

Harry mistakes the action. “Let’s get you into dry clothes, Miss Aldrich.”

 

“Don’t call me Miss Aldrich,” I say. “It makes me feel as if I’m a higher position than you, and I’m not. I was an orphan working as a nanny, no more, no less. I’m just Roselina.”

 

He nods curtly.

 

“Wait for me right here, I know where I can find some female clothing,” he states, giving me a quick once over before leaving the cabin. He returns seconds later, a dress in his hands. “Tomlinson won’t mind me borrowing this,” he explains, handing it over to me.

 

I recoil.

 

“Did this belong to one of his wenches?!” I exclaim, horrified.

 

“Does it matter? It’s warm. You can’t stay in your clothes, you’ll get ill,” he denies, forcing the dress into my hands.

 

I take it between my thumb and forefinger, eyeing it with a scowl but saying no more on the matter.

 

“Where can I change?” I ask. He sighs and turns around to face the other way.

 

“I promise I won’t look, alright?” he states. “Just hurry and change before the captain returns.”

 

I stare at the cabin boy for a minute or so before I decide to trust him. I hastily tug the wet fabric off my body, all while reminiscing today’s event. I’m still perturbed by the empty slate. 

 

“Harry, what happened after I got on the plank with Barnes?” 

 

The cabin boy looks down at his feet and starts playing with the rings on his fingers. “You fainted, Miss. So the captain dove in to save you. Horan tried to do the same, but Liam held him back. When the capt’n pulled you back on board, you weren't breathing. Horan managed to reanimate you, but his method didn't please the captain at all. Louis pulled him off you, and that's when you started coughing out sea water.”

 

Zayn comes in at that exact moment.

 

“Out, Harold. Liam needs help outside with the sails,” the pirate states gruffly, wringing his clothes on the wooden floor. “We need as much speed as we can get if we want to make up for lost time. Horan claims it'll be faster if we pass through Widower’s Cove, but we all know that's not an option,” he exhales angrily. “Black Heart would not be pleased, and we can't have the Screaming Siren tailing Renegade right now. I don't want to deal with his antics.”

 

“Very well capt’n,” the younger pirate nods, then without a glance my way, rushes out of the room, more than eager to be out of the captain’s intimidating presence. 

 

For a couple seconds, the room is filled with tense silence, with only the sound of our breathing. Then I look up, prepared to defend Niall, when the captain surges forward, his large, cold hands cupping my cheeks before his lips crash against mine. I’m thrown back against the wall, not violently but urgently,  his body pressing against mine. And out of the blue, the captain stops and pulls away, his eyes boring into mine - and there’s something in them I’ve never seen before, and it makes my knees tremble from the mere sight. 

 

“Now that I’ve erased Horan off you, can you tell me why, Roselina?” he enquires calmly.

 

I blink back at him, not understanding.

 

“Why do you have to be so fragile?” he continues, eyes hard. “All you needed was to push that bastard but no. You had to fucking faint.”

 

“I--”

 

“Let me finish,” he silences me dryly. “That boy touched you where no one else but I was to ever touch you because you couldn’t manage to stay conscious!” he explodes. I push him away, getting angry.

 

“Would you rather I’d drowned?! Niall merely helped me breathe!” I exclaim.

 

“Don’t raise your voice at me!” Zayn retorts lowly, pushing me against the wall once more. “Three more seconds, and I would’ve reanimated you myself,” he spews.

 

Suddenly furious, I shove against his chest, and he surprisingly releases me. Turning my back on him, I huff, “Sure you would’ve.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

I force myself not to look at him and cross my arms over my chest. Tears prick at my eyes - I’m so angry that I could cry any moment, and I don’t want to give him that satisfaction. I almost drown, and he blames me for fainting? It’s not like I can control what my body does. Everything’s that happened is because of him - he brought me here in the first place.

 

“Just leave me alone,” my voice comes out feeble and shaky, and I hate it. I grit my teeth and wish I could at least keep a stern tone, but I can’t even do that.

 

What is he trying to pull, anyhow? That he’s some kind of knight in shining armor - my hero? He’s everything but. I haven’t got a clue why he’s wasting his breath on convincing me that he could’ve done with Niall did. No matter what he says or does, my view on him will never change. 

 

Ever.

 

“Roselina,” his voice is, again, surprisingly soft, and his fingers softly graze my arm, but I push them away, then whirl to face him, my cheeks flushed and eyes blazing.

 

“I said to leave me alone! For days you’ve locked me up in here, and you seem to find is sickly amusing to take away things I ask for. But for once, can’t you pretend to have some sense of compassion and leave me alone?”

 

He blinks, and his features darken drastically. It looks like he’s about to explode, but instead, he pushes past me and swings the door open. Muttering something about women and emotions, he slams the door behind him, jarring the walls around us. I collapse onto the bed and dissolve into the fresh set of tears. I still feel utterly cold, despite the warm clothes. I want off of this god forsaken ship so badly and away from these wretched pirates, but it seems like no matter what I do, I can’t. Even Niall is seeming to succumb to their might - without him on my side, what else can I do? The thought of my only true friend on board switching sides is terrifying enough to make me sick, and I can only pray it will never happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW ! ITS BEEN SO LONG! BUT WEVE GOT PLENTY OF NEW IDEAS AND THEREFORE SHALL UPDATE MORE FREQUENTLY!


	11. Stinging Betrayals

It’s a beautiful afternoon, without a single cloud in the sky. After taking a walk around the ship, although mindful of not stepping too close to the railing as I still perfectly remember my near-death experience of being cast over, I feel my head begin to clear again after being cooped up for so long.

I haven’t been out in quite some time, and this morning, the captain was adamant about me getting some fresh air. Why, I don’t know, but I’m not going to question his motives, as in the end, I’ll get some fresh air and beautiful weather. He and I have barely spoken, just like how it was before the incident. But I’ve noticed he seems distant and less aggravated than usual - which is evidently saying something on account of his usually easily-irritated personality. He’s been mostly quiet, as if in deep thought, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about. Does it have anything to do with my necklace, or the fact that we’re having to stop at the next town to gather more supplies for the trip?

The captain is a bizarre man, one I have yet to quite figure out. Although, thinking more on it, it should be simple: he’s a cold-hearted pirate. He probably doesn’t understand the value of life, after throwing mates off his own ship for merely making mistakes. What kind of man does that?

“A storm’s coming tonight,” one of the older pirates mutters as I pass by. I linger, though, curious as my gaze shifts to the excessively calm ocean before me and the cloudless sky. How can there be a storm coming if the sky is so beautiful? I see no signs of clouds.

Another pirate voices my thoughts, and the old pirate grunts. “Whenever a storm comes, I feel it in me bones - they creak more than usual. And this one’s a strong one, aye.”

I take a moment to glance up at the sky again, squinting my eyes for any signs of clouds, but there’s nothing but the vastness of blue.

Interesting.

The port is beginning to view, way off in the distance. Right now, it looks like a tiny, black dot. I glance towards the front of the ship, where the captain stands idly, alone, and he’s staring straight ahead with an expressionless face, his hands held behind his back in a sober fashion. What does a man like him think about? Gold? Fortune?

“I wish more days were like this,” Niall says, suddenly beside me. He’s sweating, his cheeks flushed from having to work alongside the other pirates. He leans against the wooden pole and crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze focused on the calm horizon.

“It’s beautiful,” I agree softly, then glance to make sure we’re alone. Lowering my voice, I add, “I heard one of the pirates say there’s a storm coming, though.”

Niall looks confused. “Really? But there isn’t a cloud in the sky!”

“That’s exactly what I - ”

“I’ll tell you what, mate,” Tomlinson is suddenly there, taking a swig of rum from a wooden canteen, that usual smirk playing along his lips, “Quarillon has some of the best taverns, as well as,” he leans closer to Niall and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, “the most flexible wenches.”

Niall’s cheeks go bright red, his eyes heading for his feet. I myself feel a wave of unease, taking a step away from the pirate in slight disgust.

“I’m going to be staying on the ship,” Niall gets out finally. “Got a couple of maps I have to check out if we’re to take the quickest route.”

“That’s not going to happen, mate,” Louis snorts. “You know exactly what happened last time we let you and Rosebud ‘alone’ on the ship.”

“Nothing happened,” I state, frowning.

“Exactly. And there’s the problem,” he claps. “We pirates have a couple urges we have to take care of when we set foot on land,” he winks. “Niall’s been excessively tense for the last couple of days, and this could end up affecting him negatively in the long-run. He needs a release and since he doesn’t actually have the guts to make a move on you...” He lets his sentence hang and I clench my fists. “This is for his greater good, and I have the captain’s full support. Liam is the only one to stay on the ship tonight. We all need a release.”

I feel sick to my stomach.

Suddenly, I turn around, knowing very well that Zayn’s gaze is on our little trio. Our eyes meet. and his turn into slits as he takes in how close Niall and I are.

“Horan!” He calls out harshly.

Zayn doesn’t even need to elaborate, Niall pulls away sharply, knowing fully well what may happen if he so much as oversteps. I can’t help glaring at the captain, and he glares right back, beckoning me to him with his finger as if I am a child. I resist the strong urge to stay put and make my way to him.

“What?” I huff, standing beside him.

“You know what.”

“No. I don’t actually,” I reply.

His whole body tenses, and he grits his teeth, before his demeanour immediately shifts back to a calm one.

“I’ll be going to the whorehouse with my men tonight,” he states finally.

“Am I supposed to be impressed? Disgusted?” I scoff. “You can do as you please. I don’t care.”

“I’ll be taking Horan with me.”

“I know, Tomlinson filled me in already,” I roll my eyes. “Are you trying to get me to tell you to stay? Trying to get me to plead to let Niall stay on the ship? Because that won’t happen.”

He blinks, brows furrowing. I shift my feet, forcing myself not to break our gaze. I know exactly what he’s doing - he’s toying with me. Dangling this in front of my face, all for my reaction. But I’m determined not to give him one, even though I’m absolutely livid.

It’s okay for him to go to a whorehouse and force the only friend I have on this ship, to try and corrupt him, too. But the moment someone else lays a finger on me, even if it is to save my life - that’s completely inexcusable. His hypocrisy is what makes it so difficult to stare at him calmly, to bite back the anger, despite my flaming cheeks, but he takes this for mortification at the mentioning of a whorehouse and what comes along with that.

But then I see Niall from the corner of my eye. Why isn’t he objecting? Is he actually willing to go to a whorehouse, knowing fully well what kinds of things happen there?

“Besides,” I say finally, “Niall’s too good for a whorehouse. He’ll refuse to go.” I turn to look at him, my voice faltering. “Right?”

Niall glances at a smirking Louis, who’s watching the spectacle with a very much amused expression, and then over at the captain himself, who returns his look coldly. I see him visibly swallow - his hands are actually trembling.

“If the captain wishes it,” he says finally, “then I’ll go. I’ve never been before, anyhow. I’m sure it won’t do any harm.”

“That’s the spirit, mate!” Louis clamps his hand on the blonde’s shoulder, laughing. “There’s a first for everything, aye!”

My facade drops, an inch. I stare at Niall, dumbfounded, as the slow, excited smile spreads along his face at Louis’ enthusiasm.

“We’ll be arriving soon, may as well get a head start for our long, awaited night!” Louis continues, handing Niall the flask of rum. I step forward, opening my mouth to protest, but Niall opens it up and takes a small sip. When his face cringes from the taste, Louis reels with laughter. And I can’t form speech - I feel like I’m part of a dream, waiting to be woken up where things make sense again. Sort of. But with Niall beaming at Louis, and Louis taking another of the rum, and the captain staring at the two, looking the slightest bit amused - absolutely none of this makes any sense.

“So, let me guess,” I seethe, locking eyes with the captain again, “I’ll be locked inside your quarters for the remainder of the night.”

“With Liam, yes,” he replies. “Why?” He steps closer, tilting his head. “Do you have a problem with that?”

He’s testing me, back to his games again - closely watching my face, trying to get a reaction. It takes everything I have to push back the anger and keep a blank expression. I’ll be damned before I let him know how furious I am at how unfair I’m being treated. And if I protest, what will it change?

Nothing.

I’ll still be locked up because despite all of this, and everything that’s happened, I’m nothing but a prisoner here. A piece to his puzzle, leading to whatever fortune awaits - a typical pirate’s fantasy. And here, that’s all I’ll ever be. I’m sure of it.

Unless I escape.

A round of shouts from the other pirates seizes our attention. Looking out over the ocean, the port is closer than ever, us having snuck up on it without us noticing due to our discussion. The pirates whoop and cheer at the sight of land.

But when I see it, I’m filled with nothing but dread because I know that with this, I’ll only be locked up. Again.

“Horan!” Zayn calls out again as the port draws closer with every passing wave that caresses the side of the ship. The blonde looks up, slightly frightened. “I have something for you,” he begins, reaching in his boot. He pulls out a small sack of gold and throws it in his direction. My friend catches it in midair, as confused as I am by the action. The crew around us seem to understand what is going on. “It’s customary for the captain and crew to treat any newcomer with extra special care the first time they step on land.”

The pirates around us all throw a coin or two in Niall’s direction, sniggering between themselves.

“So tonight, not only will you get a fair share of rum and whisky, but Quarillon’s best whore will also be at your service. Our treat,” the captain ends, his eyes focused on me the whole time.

I clench my fists, feeling my face heat up in anger. He’s doing this on purpose.

“I’m telling you, mate, Misty is the best whore a pirate could ever ask for,” Louis sighs almost dreamily, wrapping his arm around Niall’s shoulder. “She’ll literally do anything for that amount of gold,” he trails on, motioning the coins around him.

Niall’s cheeks are bright red, very similarly to mine. Though not for the same reasons.

Next thing I know, the ship is dropping its anchor and berthing near a very large quay.

Seagulls cheer overhead in abundant flocks, and from this close proximity, I can see the inhabitants of the porch walking along the port. But over in the town are spirals of roofs from various buildings, with smoke seeping into the sky. So many different colors, I can see, that belong to the people's’ attire - reds, greens, browns, whites, blacks, etc.

“We’re setting sail in the morning, boys!” Zayn calls out to his men as the ship finally accosts. “I want all of you to be back before the town awakes!”

There’s a series of cheers.

“Liam?”

“Yes capt’n?” The bulky brunette replies, appearing from God knows where.

“Please escort Miss Aldrich back to my quarters,” Zayn instructs, walking down to the lower decks. “Keep her there until my return. I have a whore to attend to,” he winks.

I nearly lose it right there. I feel like screaming and punching something. Anything. But Liam’s firm hand on my shoulder stops me from doing anything. Instead, I’m nudged in the opposite direction, right back to the captain’s stuffy quarters.

___

 

I’ve been staring at the wooden wall in front of me for the past couple hours, burning a hole through it with my mind. Liam’s a few feet away from me, as quiet as ever. I haven’t decided yet who I preferred to have as a babysitter: silent Liam or psychotic Louis. As strange as it seems, I think it’s the latter. At least with Tomlinson, there had been some kind of interaction. Something to speed up time. Now there’s nothing. Nothing but dead silence.

My eyes shift from their spot on the wall to Liam’s sitting form. I’m surprised to see him nodding off, his head rolling from one side to the other before he straightens himself, blinks, and does it again. He’s clearly exhausted.Though pirates are thieves, murderers, raiders - not doubt terrible human beings, there’s one thing I can say about them.

They’re hard working.

They work from sun up to sun down. They may have fun doing it, of course, with rum always being in their reach, but it’s only stops like tonight where they can actually go out, meet people - even if they are whores - and, well, be human.

Oh, what am I doing? I sit up in bed slowly, carefully, eyes trained steadily on Liam’s dozing form. I shouldn’t be thinking in terms of the pirates - I should be planning my escape! With him falling asleep, I might have a fair chance. And despite all my mullings from before, it’s worth it this time. The captain’s not only getting under my skin, as much as I hate to admit, he’s also getting under Niall’s.

And this, I can’t see.

Normally, I’d refuse to try an attempt without him being with me, only because I’d want him to be free, also. But it was his choice to willingly go to the whorehouse with rest of the lot, whereas I normally don’t have a choice. But I do now.

And I’ll be damned before I let it slip through my fingers.

The floorboards creak under my weight as soon as I step off the bed. Liam shuffles a little, but his eyes remain closed. He stretches out his legs and resumes dozing off.

Exhaling slowly, I step completely off the bed. It seems like my heart’s stopped in my chest. This is risky--dangerously risky. The door is probably locked, but I see the keys hung around Liam’s jacket.

I’ll somehow, someway, have to get them without him rousing.

Pursing my lips, I cover my mouth with one hand and tip toe towards the pirate’s sleeping form. The closer I get, the more I can hear his steady, deep breathing. I briefly wonder why he didn’t volunteer to go to the whorehouse with the rest of his mates - but this thought is flitting. I don’t have time to think, I only have time to act.

I’m right in front of him, staring hard at his face, searching for any sign of alertness. But it’s strangely peaceful, like a small, innocent boy, despite his pirate attire. My eyes trail to the keys resting against his jacket, hanging loosely by a rusty clip. My hand moves ever so slowly, and time freezes completely as my fingers make contact with the key. With one simple flick, I free it and seize it into my own - but Liam moves, and I flinch away, my heart hammering in my chest. Diving back onto the bed, I curl underneath the blankets, closing my eyes just as Liam’s open slightly, half awake.

“Wha - oh,” he murmurs, rubbing at his eyes. For a few moments, he stares at me, evidently bored, before his head leans back against the wall, his eyes slowly closing.

And then he’s asleep.

I clutch the keys tightly in my hand as I inch off the bed, keeping a close eye on him again. My feet don’t seem to make a shuffle of noise as I tread towards the door, but the keys do jingle as I go to unlock it. Holding my breath, I quickly unlock the door and open it, hearing it creak. When Liam shuffles, I quietly slip through; without waiting, I dash down the hallway, pausing when I reach the corner, ears straining for any footsteps. Most of the crew is probably in the town, but there’s bound to be some left aboard to guard the ship.

I can’t afford to run into anyone.

When all is silent except a shuffle of footsteps overhead, I rush down the hallway, reaching the opening to outside. It’s already pitch black out, with only the moonlight and stars out for light. But the air is crisp and fresh, yet vaguely chilly as I carefully survey the area. Two pirates are sitting on barrels right at the front entrance, sharing cups of rum, most likely, and their laughter reaches me from even this distance. Towards the left, over by the railing, another lone pirate looks out over the town, quietly sipping at his drink. Three? That’s all the captain thought of leaving to watch over his stronghold? It seems unbelievable, but that’s all I see at the moment.

But there’s a huge problem I cannot ignore. The lot sitting in front of the entrance. There’s no way I’d be able to sneak by them, and I can’t think of any form of distractions to seize every one of their attention.

And then my eyes look out at the black expanse of the water, which leads inevitably right to the the shore, lapping gently at its surface. Jumping in will make some noise, yes, but maybe it’ll give me time to reach the shore and run into town. But, swimming is an issue, especially remembering my near death experience. I have a deep fear of water instilled in me because of it, this I’m sure of, but even more so at night, when it’s utterly black. I’d never know what lurks beneath its dark depths…

But for a chance of freedom, this is worth it. Several broken planks are leaned against the walls from having broken in half from a storm, more likely. And remembering one particular book, wood floats.

Grabbing the biggest one, I make my way towards the back of the ship and peer out over the railing, after making sure I’m alone. The water seems still and serene, but how deep is it? If we can lay an anchor here, surely it must be deep.

All color has drained from my face, but I remind myself of what I’ll be escaping. For a moment, I feel guilty. Niall should be here, to experience this escape with me, but he’s chosen to visit the whorehouse. It’s not my fault he chose that. And I shouldn’t hinder my chance at freedom based on this. For once, I should do something for myself.

I shakily pull myself up over the railing. Hanging on the edge, I stare deeply at the water, my blood running cold at the memories rushing back in my head. It was so cold that day, it’s bound to be even colder right now, with the sun down. And will this plank really keep me afloat? Or will I drown?

It’s a risk I’ll have to take.

I close my eyes and utter a silent prayer, and then - in one split second, I’m gone.

My feet hit the water first, followed by the rest of my body. A loud splash resounds as my body is swallowed whole. I immediately throw my body into motion. And thankfully, the plank does float, violently actually, hitting my chin in the process. I clutch onto it with my life and kick my legs as hard and fast as I can. Through the water brimming my eyes, also burning with the salt, I make my way towards the lights of the town, my heavy breathing and racing heart thundering in my ears.

All too soon, my feet hit sand, and I’m able to walk. But I don’t. I toss away the plank and run as much as I can in knee-length water. I trip several times in my clumsy midst, but I don’t look behind. Relief washes over me, and despite the cold water clinging to my body, I’m enraptured in warmth: I’m safe.

Free.

But I can’t collapse onto the sand like I want to. No, I have to go into town - ask for help. I have no doubt they heard me hit the water, so they’re probably heading this way now, and also the whorehouse, to alert the captain. I haven’t got a clue where it’s at, but I know for sure I’ll have to avoid it so I can avoid them.

It almost seems surreal, this lifting, freeing feeling. I’m crying, tears seeping down my cheeks, as I run up the thick sand, kicking it behind me in my wake. When I enter the outskirts of town, my feet meeting stone, I immediately look to find someone - anyone, to help me. But it’s mostly empty.

And just as I turn around the corner, I hear a voice.

“What’s a lass like you doing in the streets alone at this time of the night?”

I spin around so quickly that I’m left dizzy. I can’t see anyone, even though I’m positive the person talking was right behind me.

I turn back around, only to collide with a chest.

“Careful,” the same voice chuckles, steadying me. I look up, only to be met with piercing blue eyes and a shock of golden hair, hidden underneath a feathered hat. I reflexively take a step backwards, unnerved by his closeness. I take a good look at the man. He seems to be in his mid-twenties, probably a respectable marine by the looks of his attire. A sword rests by his hip, at arms reach. Thinking quickly, I grab it and point it in his direction cautiously.

“I mean you no harm,” he promises, holding his hands out in surrender. “Why are you out here all alone, soaking wet?” The man repeats, voice laced with worry. “And who has frightened you this much?”

His tone indicates no trickery. He genuinely seems concerned. Maybe he can help.

“I’ve been stuck on a ship for the last couple of weeks,” I admit finally, slightly breathless. “A pirate ship,” I add, lowering the weapon.

He’s unable to mask his shock.

“A lady like yourself? Stuck with pirates? How did that come to be?” He demands.

“It’s a long story but I don’t have the time to explain. I need to get as far away from the ship as possible--”

“If I may, what’s the ship’s name? Maybe I’ve heard of it and can help you find a place where they never stop to restock.”

I shut my eyes, trying to recall Zayn’s ship’s name.

“Renegade,” I say finally. “The ship’s name is Renegade.”

Something similar to recognition flashes in his eyes.

Loud voices echo nearby. I’m rapidly pulled in alley by the man, and he presses me against the wall.

“Shh,” he whispers, listening intently. My heart is thumping loudly in my chest as the voices shout louder, followed by hurried footsteps.

The stranger and I stay pressed against each other until the voices disappear completely.

“Please step away from me,” I ask, voice wavering.

“I’m terribly sorry. I believe these men who just ran by us were some of Renegade’s crewmen, and I didn’t want you to be found so I didn’t think. I’m not the type to browbeat young ladies such as yourself.”

“So you do know of Renegade?” I enquire hopefully.

“That I do. And I’ll be more than glad to get you as far away from that rotten ship. I can offer you passage to wherever you wish on my own ship. Where would you like to go?”

Where would I even go? Would I even return to Penzance’s ruins?

“I don’t think I want to be on a ship just yet,” I shake my head.

More noises erupt around the corner, footsteps thundering. I instinctively take a step closer to the man, hoping his body will somehow shield mine from view.

“I know it seems everything but appealing,” he whispers to me. “But I think the wisest thing to do, for you, will be to get as far away from them as possible. And leaving the town itself will do just that. They probably wouldn’t even suspect you of doing just that - who knows how long they’ll stay here to look for you?”

Shadows dance along the walls. Somewhere, a group of men burst into laughter.

“And time is of the essence,” the man continues, his blue eyes peering down into mine, looking genuinely sympathetic. “A decision must be made, and it must be made now. But it’s up to you.”

“Okay,” I say, my lips barely moving as more men rush past us. They can easily be innocent townspeople, or the pirates already looking for me. I lock eyes with the blue-eyed man and nod. “I’ll go.”

“Alright then, lass,” he grabs my wrist, his fingers surprisingly warm despite the chilly air, “we’re going to have to move fast, so try and keep up.”

I don’t have time to respond before he roughly yanks me behind him and around the opposite corner. We run through a dark alleyway before appearing under a torch and its flickering light. The street here is empty, but I hear footsteps thudding around the corner.

“My ship isn’t anchored too far,” the man says over his shoulder. “But here’s the thing: we have to pass by the brothel, which I’m sure most of the pirates will be at. We have to make sure none of them see you.”

“How do we do that?” I ask.

He pauses, looking around for a moment, then notices something on the ground. Some kind of clothe, dirty, that smells vaguely like piss. I cringe when he thrusts it towards me.

“Wear this over your head,” he instructs.

“I can’t wear that - who knows where it’s been!”

“Would you rather have Zayn’s men instantly recognize your face and drag you back on the Renegade?” He retaliates, raising an eyebrow, and I swallow thickly.

He’s right.

Pursing my lips, I grab the rag and pull it over my head. But then I stop. Never once had I mentioned Zayn’s name. And I doubt the captain goes around telling his surname to everyone. He hates when others call him that.

“How do you know his name is Zayn?” I get out.

The man seems to have realised he’s made a mistake because his grip tightens on my arm. And then he lugs me behind him, forcefully, so hard that I feel like my shoulder will become disjointed. A hand wrapping around my waist, he pulls me sharply over his shoulder and makes a break down the street, carrying me like I’m nothing but a feather.

The realization dawns on me that I’ve made a grave mistake into trusting this man, but it’s too late -- no matter how hard I flail or kick, his hold is unrelenting and unbreakable. And he moves surprisingly swiftly and fast.

“Help!” I shout, my voice echoing down the now seemingly empty streets. “Someone - ”

The brothel is right there. I recognize the roaring of laughter and talk, and the vague but noticeable smell of alcohol. I get one moment to catch a glimpse through the front windows, and I see a flash of blonde hair, being Niall, with a woman seated on his lap. But our eyes meet, for a split second, as he’s taking another sip of a drink, but he drops it when noticing me.

But by then, I’m gone.

I scream until my throat goes raw, but this doesn’t seem to bother the man kidnapping me. Who is he? Another pirate?

Or someone worse than a pirate?

By the time we reach the port, my throat is dry, and I’m barely able to make any form of noises from screaming so loudly and so much. And at the sight of his ship, which I can’t see at the moment from my back facing it rather than my face, the man slows to a confident walk, assured that I’m rightfully his for the taking.

“Please,” I utter, tears brimming my eyes again, desperation clawing at my chest, “let me go - whatever you want, I promise I don’t have. I have no money, I have no --”

He pulls me from his shoulder, and I hit the ground hard, bruising my knees instantly from the sudden impact. Two other men stand on either side of my kidnapper, and my heart freezes in my chest.

Pirates.

“I don’t want your money,” the blonde man says. “Believe it or not, Zayn is rather predictable. The only reason why he would keep a woman on his ship would be because she’s one of Richald’s relatives. I’m guessing that is exactly what you are.”

I’m still confused as ever by this short-lived, vague explanation, but there’s still something I need to know. Mustering my voice, I ask, “And who are you?”

“Me?” The men beside him chuckle to themselves, as if sharing a private joke, and the man slowly smirks down at me, his eyes glinting. “I’m Captain Blackheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a thought!


	12. Cutting Edge

Well, the old man’s unlikely prediction on Renegade turned out to be true.

 

In what feels like moments, dark clouds fill the sky, covering every span of blue until nothing but dark remains. The rain that follows is cold, relentless, and utterly ruthless, gusting winds encouraging it. The waves crash against Blackheart’s ship as the town grows smaller and smaller behind us. And the farther we sail from land, the less birds I see - until there is nothing but the darkness of the storm. 

 

“Hey! You heard the captain!” A voice booms right in my ear, and moments later, loud thunder booms overhead, making me flinch. “She goes to the brig!”

 

My heart immediately sinks. The brig? The image of Zayn’s warm cabin suddenly fills my mind and I find myself longing for the safety it brought.

 

“Where-where is the captain? Please - can I talk to him?” I ask for the tenth time, but the two pirates snicker and grab onto my forearm with their icy fingers and forcefully tug me behind them. All around me, the pirates are shouting - some sending orders, other following them. And the ship is rocked back and forth so violently, that if not for the pirates holding onto me, I may have fallen over. 

 

My stomach twists and churns with nausea as I struggle to see straight, my world tipping all around me constantly.

 

Up, and down.

 

I know I thought Zayn’s men were disgusting - but these? They’re absolute animals. For instance, the two rogues dragging me across the deck smell like a decaying animal carcass, mixed with the heavy smell of rum. The ship alone has a staggering stench, one that I can’t quite put my finger on - I’ve never smelled something so awful before. 

 

I keep begging and pleading, but my words fall on ears that refuse to listen. I can’t quite understand what they’re saying, though, over the thunder and crashing waves. Everything is chaos, and - 

 

Freezing water splatters all over me, drenching me in moments flat from head to toe. I come to a dead stop as the two pirates begin snickering again, despite the danger that’s upon this very ship. 

 

The waves are so powerful that they’re crashing over onto the deck. I’m not a pirate, but that surely can’t be a good sign.

 

“No, please don’t put me down there,” I’m crying now, my tears mixing with the rain. There’s more water being splattered everywhere, and through the blurry onslaught of rain, I see obscured figures moving rapidly, working to get the ship under order. Men fighting the storm.

 

The pirate on the left - the tall one, throws open the door and shoves me sharply inside. I lose my footing on the steps leading downwards and violently hit the wall inside with a groan. 

 

“Please…” I murmur again, feebly. 

 

“Come along, lass,” the shorter pirate scoffs at me. Rolling his eyes, he grasps my hair and scowls into my face. “What do you think the captain needs her for?”

 

The taller pirate grabs my forearm, pulling me sharply against him. “I don’t know, aye. But we’ll ask ‘em later.”

 

I’m dragged mercilessly down the narrow hallway, and overhead I hear the thundering of footsteps and the howling of the wind. All I can think about now is how I’m ever going to get out of this - maybe I should’ve never have left like that. Maybe I should’ve waited for Niall.

 

Maybe…

 

So many maybes, with no concrete answers. Renegade was bad - I counted myself lucky enough to have escaped.

 

But here, with a man like Captain Blackheart?

 

Who knows how I’m going to survive this. I don’t know much of him, but his name alone is enough to cause panic…

 

“Hey, Wench!” the short pirate opens the door to the brig, and we’re greeted with a darkness so thick that for a couple of seconds, I see absolutely nothing. Then, as my eyes grow adjusted, I see the shady form of stairs leading down. “We’ve brought you a, uh, visitor!”

 

He snickers again, shoving me forward like a puppet without strings. I purse my lips and stifle protests, figuring it’s futile right now to reason with men like this. 

 

I jump as the door behind me slams so hard I feel as if the whole ship has rocked at the contact. But obviously, the brewing storm outside must’ve played with my mind and added to the slam’s intensity.

 

A shiver racks my body, my drenched clothes doing absolutely nothing to help me feel strong while locked in the ship’s blackened stomach. Shaking yet curious, I find myself heading for the stairs leading even deeper into the ship’s body.

 

To my great relief, there’s a flicker of light as I tentatively walk down one step at a time. Keeping my breathing controlled through the clatter of my teeth, I focus on the light beneath, hands clenched tight around the meager railing the stairs provided.

 

When I finally reach the bottom of the stairs, I realise the light is but a small lantern, the flame flickering weakly as it’s container balances from its hook on the wall. Illuminating a figure every time it balances to the left. A girl who looks to be around my age, if not younger.

 

She’s huddled near the lone crate keeping her company, doing the very best she can to hold the pieces left of her clothing over her shivering body. She too seems to have been soaked to the bone, and my guess is that she’s in a much worse situation, her blue lips and gaunt features almost frightening in the dim light.

 

I approach her carefully, not quite knowing how to interact with the poor thing without scaring her even more than she already is.

 

“M-m-my name’s Rose-lina,” I begin, fighting my chatters to make myself seem less intimidating. “Pl-pl-eased to me-ee-et you,” I continue, trying my best to smile. 

 

“Lilijana,” she responds, her voice barely above a whisper. “My name’s Lilijana.” She shifts a little in her position, wrapping her arms around her knees before tossing a strand of wet hair away from her face. Her eyes meet mine, the striking green contrasting almost hauntingly with her darker skin. 

 

“How l-long have you been he-re?” I ask, worry lacing my tone.

 

“Too long.” She hides her face in her knees, before a violent cough escapes her lips, shaking her whole frame. “Did you fall for it, too?”

 

I sit myself next to her, hugging my knees to my chest. Confused, I ask, “F-f-fall for what?”

 

“Him.” she exhales a shaky breath, and her voice is so hoarse. “Blackheart. Did you fall for his facade? Is-is that how he got you?”

 

I quickly understand what she means by ‘facade.’

 

“Yes,” I mutter, rubbing my arms, desperate for some kind of warmth. 

 

“I did, too,” she murmurs. “He seems so-so...proper. But he’s everything but a gentleman. He’s a monster.”

 

“Why are you Blackheart’s captive?” I frown, finally managing to stop my teeth from chattering. I don’t know if it’s a good sign or the first steps to hypothermia.

 

“I was a princess,” Lilijana murmurs, water flooding her emerald eyes. She begins sobbing, the sound soft and heartbreaking to say the least.

 

“Was? I don’t understand...He’s a pirate, but he can’t take away your title--”

 

“He took that away from me when he…” she looks lost for words before she shakes her head. “I don’t feel like a princess. I don’t deserve to be a princess, not after what I let him do. He took everything from me. I’m nothing now. Absolutely nothing but a being worth money. He’s holding me ransom.”

 

I shake my head firmly, my shaking hands encompassing hers.

 

“Lilijana, you are not nothing. Whatever that horrible man might’ve done to you cannot rob you of your value as a human being.” I state firmly.

 

“I feel like nothing. I look like nothing,” she motions her ragged clothing, pulling the sleeves of her torn dress back on her blueish shoulder. “I might as well be nothing.”

 

“No, that’s not how it works,” I shake my head, scooting closer to her. I want to hug her, but I know it’ll only make us colder. “There’s something I don’t understand...if he’s holding you ransom, isn’t he supposed to keep you safe if he wants his money? Surely the king of your country wouldn’t accept giving him large sums of money if his daughter is harmed in any way?”

 

“As long as I’m alive when I’m given back to my father, the rest doesn’t matter,” she mutters morosely. “Somedays, I almost wish he’d end me like he ended his wife…” she adds, mostly to herself.

 

“His wife? What happened to his wife?” I enquire. 

 

The ship suddenly rocks violently sideways, throwing us onto the floor. I wince, pain flaring up my forearms. There’s no doubt I’ll have bruises in the morning. If I even get to see the morning. The thought sends a shudder down my spine. 

 

Lilijana helps me back up to my feet, and the both of us slide back to the corner of our prison, attempting to warm ourselves by rubbing our arms with our hands, to no avail.

 

“Blackheart killed his wife in a fit of rage,” the princess starts finally. “Threw her into the sea and let her drown in the cold waters with nothing but a small buoy. My guess is that the cold numbed her to sleep before she died. That’s exactly how I want to die. Sleeping in the arms of the ocean.”

 

“You can’t p-p-possibly be thinking of dy-dying already,” I exclaim, teeth chattering once more. I take a deep breath. “There’s so much you haven’t seen!”

 

“You think I don’t know that?” she sighs, a rough cough escaping her thin lips. “It’s not like I’ll see them from the castle anyways. That’s exactly why I fell into Blackheart’s trap, blindingly falling in love with his promises of adventure and discovery,” Lilijana exhales loudly. “He’s a ruthless manipulator.”

 

“Tell me about your country,” I say, wanting to get her mind off the subject.

 

“My c-country?” she lets off a bitter scoff, then, through gritted teeth, seethes, “I’ve always wanted nothing more than to leave my country.”

 

For a moment, I’m speechless. I’ve never seen a prince or princess in person before - not even close, but this, I never would have expected. I’ve read books where princesses would lay their lives for their country - often, they seemed to love it more than themselves, and it surely goes beyond the title itself. But her voice is full of disgust, and her beautiful features are upturned in an ugly grimace of detestation. 

 

To think a princess can possibly hate her country? 

 

“Why?” is all I can ask, to which she scoffs. Again.

 

“My feelings towards my country has nothing to do with the landscape,” she retorts. “It had the most beautiful cliffs hanging over the oceans, though I’ve only seen paintings, and truthfully, some of the best food - and art. But the people, especially the royals, were nothing but monsters. My father, the king, being the biggest one of them all. Because my father never bore a son, I’ve always been told that I would be given the crown someday. And that, I had nightmares about. To think I’d rule over people like that…” 

 

“Well, maybe we c-can focus on the positive side of this. Now that you’re gone from...your country,” I don’t bother asking her what it’s called because she obviously doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, “you’ll have the freedom to become whoever you want, and live wherever you want.”

 

For a moment, she’s silent. And then she turns to look at me hard, her face emotionless. 

 

And then she starts laughing. No, cackling. Despite her beautiful self, this kind of laugh is nothing but bitterness and mockery.

 

“You think we’re going to be free?” she breathes between laughs. “You think we’re going to escape?” 

 

“I know we will,” I retort, feeling slightly insulted by her laughter. 

 

“You don’t know who Blackheart is. You don’t know…he threw his own wife overboard, you know. Did I already tell you that?”

 

“Yes, you did.”

 

“Well, t-there you have it.” Her eyes glaze over, and her lips seem to be turning blue. I can’t stop shivering. 

 

All my life, I’ve heard religious people reciting what Hell is supposed to be like. Wickedly scorching flames to burn the skin, with no deathly escape. Forever torment. 

 

But this? To feel cold, all the way from your blood to your very bones? I believe that would suffice. 

 

“We’re going to die,” she continues, coughing again, her hair hanging over her features. “Right here, on this bloody ship - you and me.”

 

“You don’t know that,” I mumble.

 

“Oh, yeah? Who’s going to come rescue us? Part of me wonders if my father’s even willing to pay the price for me anymore. Blackheart is one greedy man - he keeps raising the price. But I’ll tell you what, my father is the greediest man I know. Maybe this is what Blackheart is planning. Maybe he never wants to return me - maybe he does want me to die here in this-this…” she’s cut off by a round of violent coughing, and my heart aches. She’s halfway mad, I realize. How long has she been down here? Left to wait endlessly here in the darkness for her father to rescue her. 

 

“Before I came on this ship, I was on the ship of Renegade. Have you ever heard of it?” I say as she quiets down.

 

Clearing her throat, she nods stiffly. “Vaguely, yes.”

 

“The captain - Captain Malik, he’s a nightmare of a man, too. I don’t quite know his past, though I know he wants something to do with my necklace that I’ve had for as long as I can remember.”

 

She hums in reply, leaning her head back against the wall. But she stays looking at me, calmly.

 

“I lost track of time, being held prisoner on that ship,” I say. “But, I found a way out. And I did it - I escaped.” I pause, realizing that if I had never gotten off of Renegade, then I’d never be here with a man such as Blackheart, but I decide to leave that part out. Forcing my voice to stay steady, I continue, “If I can escape that, then surely I can get us out of here. After all,” I muster a grin, “pirates are all the same. I got past one, I can get past another.” 

 

“You really think so?” she murmurs hoarsely, and I purse my lips and nod. 

 

“I know we can. But we’ve got to keep it together - we can’t give up just yet, okay? We’ll get through this, and then you’ll be free.” As an afterthought, I quietly add, “We’ll be free.” 

 

I don’t know if it’s the cold or actual fatigue that knocks us out, but the next thing I know, light is seeping in from cracks in the hull, and the sea seems to have calmed down. The two of us are still huddled to each other, our clothing just as wet as it was last night. I feel nauseous. 

 

I wipe the back of my hand on my forehead, only to find it scorching hot. This is not good. I shift, carefully moving away from Lilijana, trying not to wake the poor thing.

 

I hear the door above us creak open, followed by heavy, uncoordinated steps toppling down the stairs.

 

I wince as the pirate’s loud voice echoes loudly in our small area, his bulging eyes focused on me.

 

“You. Capt’n wants you in his cabin. Now,” he grunts, stepping down the rest of the stairs before his grubby hands latch around my arm.

 

I feel dizzy, but I don’t fight him as he tugs me upwards, shooting one last glance at Lilijana. But it’s only then I realize the princess doesn’t seem to be breathing. Her chest doesn’t seem to move up and down like it should.

 

“Wait!” I protest, wrenching my arm out of the pirates grasp. I run to Lilijana and shake her a little, fear creeping up inside me. Her lips are blue. Way too blue. “Lili? Lilijana wake up. Wake up please,” I beg, searching for any sign of life from her. 

 

I’m roughly pulled backwards once more, this time by my hair. I squeal in pain.

 

“You try running away again, little wench, and I won’t be afraid to slice your pretty hands,” the disgusting pirate warns behind me.

 

“No!” I fight back. Lilijana is not dead. She can’t be. But everything about her posture suggests otherwise. The princess had given up against the storm last night, dying in a cold slumber. “No please!” I beg, struggling to try to warm her frail body.

 

I’m brusquely spinned around. The pirates’s blade is so quick I nearly miss it, but the searing pain igniting my palm confirms that he has indeed injured me. I cry out, holding my bleeding palm.

 

“I warned ya!” he retorts, grabbing me once more. This time, I’m thrown over his crusted shoulder as he takes me up the stairs and out of the brig.

 

I’m dizzy. I’m nauseous. I’m hot. But that doesn’t make any sense because my clothes are wet. I’m hauled out of the ship’s intestines and out into the open deck. I wish I could say the air is fresh, but it isn’t. It makes my stomach churn even more. I feel faint.

 

“Do you have a physician on the ship?” the words tumble uncontrolled past my lips, and looking down at my hanging arms, I finally see my bleeding palm.

 

But the pain doesn’t even register. All I can see is the princess’s motionless body - her eerily peaceful face, so different than the emotions I saw before. 

 

“We need to send someone to look over her - do you hear me, you bloody imp!” I seethe, fury building in the pit of my stomach as the disgusting pirate continues ignoring me. Sending my fists against his back, I snap, “We can’t just leave her down there! Someone has to go -- ”

 

I’m cut off when a door slams open, and I’m abruptly thrown off his shoulder. I land violently on the ground, the back of my head slamming back against the wall. For a moment, I taste blood in my mouth, and my mind whirls. The back of my head immediately starts pounding. 

 

“Please,” I choke out hoarsely, vaguely hearing the thudding of boots. “Someone - someone has to...I promised her freedom. I told her...not to give up. Please.”

 

When my vision finally stops swaying, I look up to see a pair of the iciest blue eyes staring intently at me, followed by the angelic facial features of Captain Blackheart. 

 

“Take some advice from me, lass,” he practically purrs. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

 

The rage is back, and when his bloody lips curl into an amused smirk, I rack my throat and spit all over his beautiful face.

 

But I don’t get the reaction I was expecting.

 

Rather, the total opposite.

 

He doesn’t flinch or even appear disgusted. Calmly and slowly, and smirking all the while, he wipes my spit off his cheek with his palm.

 

“As a pirate, you honestly think I haven’t had worse things on my face?” he sneers, and my cheeks immediately blaze from his crudeness. 

 

“You’re a monster,” I snap, narrowing my eyes.

 

“Call me what you’d like,” he stands from his crouching position and leers down at me, contemplating for a moment. “You’re a pretty little thing, aye. No wonder why Captain Malik wanted to keep you, although…” he trails off, diverting his attention for a couple seconds to something to his left - where, I just now notice is a desk full of crumpled papers. 

 

“Tell me, what do you know about that necklace of yours?” he asks suddenly, his gaze turning back to me. I’m pressing my fingers against the back of my head, and luckily I’m not breathing. But I start coughing soon after - which is really not good at all.

 

Weakly, I reply, “A little. I know that…” I cut myself off, cursing myself inwardly. Was I really about to tell Captain Blackheart another reason to keep me aboard his ship?

 

Noting the horrified look on my face from my obvious slip up, Captain Blackheart chuckles. And it’s the strangest sound because it’s completely void of any humor. “I’m fully aware of what that piece of jewelry holds, you know. There’s nothing to hide. I’ll hand it to Malik, he’s a smart man, and he’s got an eye for fortune. I guess you can say that’s something we have in common.” 

 

“Other than being a bloody pirate,” I grumble.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“That necklace,” Captain Blackheart crouches back in front of me, his fingers reaching out for my neck, to which I instantly flinch away. But he only calmy approaches again until I have no choice but to allow his fingers to run along my skin, and his fingers are as icy cold as the ocean waters themselves. “It’s every pirate’s dream, lass. To find, that is. Everyone always thought it was a myth - but you see, pirates, don’t believe in myths. They’re as real to us as anything.”

 

“Necklace?” I repeat shakily from his sudden close proximity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Don’t feign ignorance,” he says. “I see it, on your neck. Where it usually sits. There’s a line, aye, where the sun wasn’t able to hit.”

 

My stomach plummets. So, along with him being a heartless monster, he’s also incredibly observant. Perfect. 

 

I bite my lip, still unwilling to share the information with him. My defiance seems to amuse him.

 

“Please don’t tell me I’ll have to force the answer out of you, lass?” he chuckles, taking my wounded hand into his. “It’d be a shame for a pretty thing like you to lose a finger or two…” he states, fingers digging into my fresh wound.

 

The thought alone makes my stomach jolt. The blood. The missing digits. The excruciating pain. I can’t help myself - I retch all over his boots before promptly fainting.

 


	13. Hot and Cold

I’m nauseous, my head is spinning. A low gurgle makes it out of my lips as I struggle to open my eyes with no success. There’s roaring in my ears, and my entire body feels cold and heavy, as if I’m being continuously crushed by lead. Tiny needles are pricking my skin.

 

Come on Rose, wake up, I try to rouse myself, fighting against the invisible fog surrounding me. There’s a strong arm around my center. And suddenly, it’s squeezing the air out of me. I need to breather, to protest, to move.

 

“No!” I finally manage gasp out, eyes flying open. But I can’t hold back the scream that makes it past my lips as I take in the scene before my eyes, suddenly assaulted by a roar of sensations. My frozen body is swinging several feet in the air, dangling from someone’s arms as he climbs the rigging. The storm is still going strong around us, the sea like a hungry, raging monster beneath me. The crew men go to and fro on the deck and up in the sails, shouting to each other. 

 

Shaking, I look up to see who’s dragging me up the mast, only to meet Blackheart’s amused gaze.

 

“Had a nice sleep, lass?” he sneers, water dripping down his hair and face. He shakes his head and laughs, still heaving me higher up.

 

“Put me down!” I plead weakly, my numb body unable to do anything more than wriggle in his grasp.

 

“Are you sure you want that?!” he retorts loudly, to be heard over the storm. “Because I’m not sure you’d survive the fall. Your prince charming wouldn’t be pleased to see you broken beyond repair.”

 

“He’s not my prince charming!” I shout, just as a flash of lightning tears the sky. My head reflexively whips in that direction in fear. Thunder grumbles once more. Another bolt splits the sky, and this time, I can see what’s causing this much activity on deck: Renegade is trailing them. And it’s getting closer.

 

I barely have the time to register the fact that Zayn has come to get me that I’m none too gently tugged upwards again. I’m harshly flipped around and placed so I’m standing on a small platform on the highest mast, even higher than the lookout’s nest. The wood under my bare feet is slippery and wet. My heart is racing in my chest and the urge to throw up once more is strong. The ship is rocking so hard in every direction, the only reason I’m not being flung overboard is because Blackheart’s cold body is pressing mine to the wood behind me.

 

“So here’s what’s going to happen darlin’,” the captain whispers in my ear. His big hand encompasses my left one, while he uses the other to keep himself balanced on the small surface. I twist my body away from his, trying to find Zayn’s form on Renegade’s deck through the heavy rain. He follows my gaze, before harshly gripping my chin to force me to look at him. “I’d like to remind you that ran away from him just yesterday, so I wouldn’t hope for a merciful Malik if I were you. But since the bastard has a taste for riches, he needs you and your damn necklace. That’s why I’m dangling you up here for him to see: you’re the perfect distraction if things go wrong.” Next thing I know, he is tying one of the sail’s ropes tightly around my wrist. So tightly, I fear blood won’t be reaching my fingers anymore.

 

The ship sways, making me lose balance and slam into Blackheart’s hard body. A throbbing headache follows.

 

“Ah yes. Sweet Calypso shares my foul mood!” Blackheart steadies me, chuckling darkly. “I suggest you hang on with that free hand of yours lass, while we take care of Malik,” he ends, pushing me away from him. The back of my head hits the mast, my weak body unable to oppose to his. “Oh, and one last thing,” he pauses, holding himself on the rigging. “I don’t take kindly to wenches retching all over my boots. So this,” he takes my free hand, “is to make sure you’ll think twice about it next time.”

 

His palm and fingers excruciatingly slowly crush my hand. I hear the bones snap before i feel the pain. The screech that comes out of my lips is nearly inhuman as he undoubtedly breaks every single bone in my poor hand. The scream loses itself amidst the storm. I can’t breathe. I can't think. I can't do anything but let out a series of wrecked sobs. Tears of agony sting my eyes, mixing with the rain water. 

 

“Enjoy the show darlin’” he says with a flourish and sadistic smile, before climbing down the rigging easily.

 

My vision is hazy, and all shapes are blurry in front of me. I’m unsure if it’s due to the rain, nausea, or the agony resonating in every single part of my body making me see things. I feel faint.

 

I can't faint. If I faint I'll fall to my death.

 

Death wouldn't be so bad considering my current situation….

 

I shake my head, wincing. I can't think like that.  Think of William and Alice, who’d want you to hold on. Think of Niall who cares for you, even though he went wenching—

 

A thunderous boom echoes nearby, followed by a deafening crack. Blackheart’s ship brusquely rocks sideways, cannonballs tearing through the bow. My left arm is nearly ripped out of its socket following the blow, the sail’s rope flailing harshly in the harsh wind. Another pained sob escapes my lips. My whole body is shaking, unable to stay balanced on the tiny platform. The rope has torn my left wrist to shreds, and my right hand is unable to function.

 

If another cannonball hits, it’ll be the death of me.

 

Biting my lip, I attempt to find a better position on the mast, trying to see through the rain anything that could allow me to live through this storm.

A lightning bolt lights up the sky for a fraction of a second, long enough for me to witness Renegade’s hull smash into the other ship’s stern.

 

I’m flung sideways, my feet slipping off the wood. I scream as my body swings wildly in the wind, dangling in the air by my left arm. I wish I could faint now.

 

I’m harshly slammed into the mast, the side of my body receiving the hit. I think a rib or two might have cracked, but I’m not sure anymore. I’m numb all over.

 

My eyes shut as a fight erupts below me, Malik’s crew undoubtedly boarding Blackheart’s ship and vice versa. Loud pistols and metal hitting metal rings through the air despite the thunder and the roaring sea. I feel sick. Again.

 

I must’ve lost consciousness for a few seconds because when I open my eyes a moment later, it’s only because someone is touching me. Tapping my face lightly.

 

“Rose!” A voice shouts, nearly lost in the wind. “Roselina wake up! Rose, please!”

 

I recognize the accent after a few seconds.

 

“Niall?” I murmur, blinking. Everything is still blurry. We’re still in the storm.

 

“I need you to hang on a bit alright? We’ll get you out of this!” he yells, trying to be heard over the thunder.

 

I realize I’m in the crow’s nest, the platform I’d been previously on towering just a few feet above us. Niall lifts me up to a sitting position.

 

“Stay here alright?!” He shouts, pulling out his cutlass from its scabbard. He doesn’t even give me the time to answer before he’s turning around and climbing back down the rigging.

 

Breathing hurts. I wince, unable to do anything but stare at the crying sky and let the rain soak me. I cradle my broken hand to my center. Well at least you’re not cold anymore, I encourage myself.

 

I glance downwards for a few seconds, observing with curiosity the battle below. I see mostly shadows fighting against one another, and I can’t tell who’s in who's’ crew. A gleaming sword catches my eye. I find Zayn and Blackheart fighting on the quarterdeck. It’s difficult to tell who has the upper hand, their figures moving quickly and hitting the other relentlessly.

 

“Ahoy there Rosebud!”

 

I jump in surprise as another zig zag of light fills the dark sky, long enough to show Louis’ outline hanging in the shrouds beside me.

 

“Aww don’t look at me like that!” He says, jumping into the nest beside me. I wince as the impact of his weight makes the wood beneath me move. “I have strict orders to bring you to the captain’s quarters, little runaway.”

 

“Don’t touch me,” I warn meekly. “Hurts.”

HIs head cocks sideways, exposing splatters of blood on the side of his face. I shudder.

 

“You clearly won’t be able to take yourself down there, Rosebud. I have no choice, lassie,” he reasons, hoisting me up to a standing position. His touch is burning hot on my skin, which doesn’t make any sense due to the sheet of rainwater covering him. “You’re going to have to hang on to me,” he states in my ear. “Or we won’t make it down to Renegade before the Wicked Wench is set on fire.”

 

He reaches for my right hand and I flinch away from his touch, shaking my head rapidly. I extend my aching left arm instead, breathing in and out carefully. He tugs it softly and wraps it around his shoulder, forcing me to lean on to him for support.

 

“Always knew it was me you wanted,” he smirks. He squeezes me closer to him, grabs a wandering rope, and jumps off the main mast. I shut my eyes and hold on to the best of my abilities to Louis’ wet, scalding form. We soar through the air for mere seconds before Louis lands on his feet on Renegade’s deck.

 

I release my hold on Louis, only to have him holding me up. I push him away from me with my good arm.

 

“Rosebud?” he enquires, looking at me up and down.

 

“You’re too hot,” I get out.

 

“I know I am darling, but I need to get you to Zayn’s quarters.” He approaches me once more and I wince as his fingers graze my arm.

 

“Your skin is like fire Louis!” I protest, grimacing.

 

“Damnit. That’s not a good sign,” he states, worry creasing his forehead.

 

The ship shifts underneath us, turning sharply to starboard side. I hear men yelling all around me. A strong wave licks up the side of the ship, drenching me in saltwater. I lift up my gaze, only to see small flames licking up the sails of the other boat.

 

“There’s too much rain, the fire won’t start! Every man to his station, we need to make it out of the storm!” Someone yells out.

“Tomlinson!” another intervenes. “I need everyone on deck if we want Renegade to make it out in one piece!” Zayn. “You’re in charge! Send Liam to my cabin immediately!” he ends. “I’ll take care of the wench.”

 

_I gulp. Great. He’s still mad. And I’m in no shape to deny his requests._

 

“Zayn please, “I beg, my voice a hoarse whisper. I trip on my own feet and fall forward. The Captain catches me in his arms.

 

“You're going to catch your death in these wet clothes,” he declares. He hauls me in his arms, his body hot too.

 

Seconds later, Zayn’s storming inside his cabin, our dripping wet bodies creating a puddle of water around us. He sets me on my feet and proceeds to rip my dress off my body hastily, not giving me the chance to protest. Next thing I know, I’m as naked as a babe in front of him, unable to cover myself.

 

“Let’s get you warm.”

 

My gaze drops to the place Zayn’s hand connects with my arm, and I find myself shocked when I realize I can't feel him at all anymore. My skin has been completely numbed by the cold. But I come to realize that my bones are very much sensitive, and with the earlier adrenalin gone, pain starts flaming in my crushed right hand. It's so acute I find myself losing focus. I want to scream.

 

The captain is quick to make me lie on his bed, eyes rapidly taking in the damages my stay with Blackheart done to my body. I must look positively horrible because next thing I know, Zayn pulls the small cover over me, and becomes a cursing tornado. It’s only then I start shivering.

 

“God dammit to hell! LIAM!” Zayn roars, pacing in his cabin. “I’m going to kill that bastard!” I'm shaking so hard I nearly don't hear him, my hearing impaired by the sound of my teeth chattering and my heart pounding loudly in my ribcage. “And then I’m going to kill you for attempting to run away!” he continues, spinning towards me. “What the hell went through your mind?!”

 

“Capt’n?” Liam enters the cabin warily. “You’re needed at the helm: Saxon has been hit.”

 

I don’t see Zayn’s glare, but judging by his stance and the tone of his voice, I’m pretty sure it could’ve sent Satan running back down to hell in fright.

 

“I’m surrounded by incompetent landlubbers! You better make sure she lives to see another day, or I can promise you you won’t!” he threatens darkly, shooting me one last glance before storming out of his cabin. He slams the door so loudly, the whole ship shakes. I feel faint and barely hear anything over the chatter of my teeth.

 

Liam is quick to kneel beside me, eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he touches my forehead.

 

“Hot or cold?” he asks, voice void of emotion.

 

“Nu-umb,” I gasp out between shivers.

 

I nearly jump out of my bones as the cabin door opens again, this time to reveal Niall.

 

“I want to help,” he explains, walking in. “What can I do?”

 

“You’re supposed to be helping on deck,” Liam retorts dryly.

 

“You won’t be able to take care of her alone. Her right hand is crushed to pieces, her body temperature must be excessively low and there’s no doubt half her body is bruised, considering I found her dangling from the high mast by her left arm. I’m doing this to keep both of you alive,” Niall retorts, dripping onto the cabin’s floor.

 

“Fine then,” Liam gives up. “Don’t go blaming me if the captain hits you with the cat for disobeying him repeatedly. Fetch me as many blankets as you can,” he continues, “as well as dry pieces of clothes and pieces of wood from the infirmary. If you can get Cook to warm some broth and mix it with laudanum, that would help her too. She’s in a lot of pain.”

 

“Alright,” the blonde nods.

 

Liam turns to me again as Niall jogs out the door to get the demanded items.

 

“I’m going to need to see the damage,” he states. “May I?” he enquires, fingers on the cover.

 

The question is highly improper. That and I’m embarrassed beyond measure, knowing very well the current situation is mostly my fault. If I’d’ve stayed calmly in Zayn’s cabin, even after Liam’d fallen asleep, I probably wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

 

I finally nod, knowing I have no other choice if I want to make it.

 

To my surprise, the pirate simply moves the sheet to the side, keeping my chest hidden all while exposing the left side of my body. I feel his fingers this time, as he gently pokes my ribs.

 

I flinch away from his touch.

 

“You have a broken rib. And it’s moved. I’m going to have to put it back in it’s place, or it might sever some of your organs.”

 

He doesn’t even wait for an answer before he holds me down with one hand, probes my skin, and pulls on on a specific part of my ribcage. I feel the pop, and I scream.

 

Liam hastily proceeds to silence me, his hand clamping over my mouth. I lose focus for a few seconds, blinded by the pain. The pain doesn’t fade, it only grows.  My mind shuts briefly, and I find myself back in the estate, taking care of William and Alice. Consoling William when he’d scratch his knee. Urging him to eat breakfast. Combing the tangles out Alice’s soft hair. Reading them a bedtime story. I wish I could go back. I don’t want adventure anymore. I just want to go back to Penzance, where it’s safe and nothing hurts. I want to go back please.

 

Niall’s voice pulls me back into the present.

 

“You should’ve waited until after the laudanum’s effect!” he points out angrily, a steaming bowl in his hand, and the blankets underneath his other arm.

 

“Too late now.”

 

The bowl is pressed to my lips, urging me to drink the steaming liquid. I barely drink a few gulps, wincing and grimacing at the taste.

 

“Come on Rose, it’ll make you feel better,” Niall encourages. The ship swerves harshly portside, sending me rolling sideways and into Niall’s arms. “She’s frozen stiff,” he remarks worriedly, rapidly setting me back down on the bed before wrapping me in the blankets. A chill runs through me, and my head is pounding. I want to sleep.

 

“I’m afraid these blankets won’t be enough to heighten her temperature,” Liam sighs. “The best heat for her at this moment would have to be body heat,” he adds. “But the capt’n won’t like it at all--”

 

“Fuck him. Roselina is dying,” Niall seethes. I barely have the time to blink that Niall is stripping off his drenched clothes, leaving only his undergarments on.

 

“No Ni--”

 

“Shh.” He slides underneath the covers with me, making sure skin is touching skin before rearranging the blankets around us. “I’m just going to keep you warm.”

 

“It’s your life mate,” Liam shrugs, standing up. “Your hand Roselina. I’m going to immobilize it,” he continues.

 

But I don’t take in what he says. Whatever was in the bowl must’ve been strong, because next thing I know, I’m craving his warmth, wanting it all around me. Colors explode in front of my eyes.

 

“Niall,” I utter softly, scooting closer to him. He’s as hot as a furnace.

 

“She’s delirious.”

 

“Laudanum must be taking effect.”

 

“Ni I’m tired,” I whimper.

 

“Sleep Roselina. Just sleep. We’ll take care of you.”

 

I do just that.


End file.
